So I’ve been going through my old MySpace blog this past week, and have managed to put together a little tour of my life beginning nine years ago. Enjoy!
i hate time
March 27th, 2006
2:46 a.m.
I wish I didn’t have to work tomorrow… today… whatever. I hate time. such b.s. I wish I didn’t have to work.I’d just sit at home and drink, write and smoke cigarrettes until I passed out, then start again. maybe I’ll take the banderhoos’ advice and start posting my stuff tomorrow… today… whatever. I remember back when a day used to last seven… or eight…
glad to be rid of those days….
I think I’m happy today…at least not pissed off.
i dunno.
anyway, going to go to bed now.
more tomorrow.
As you can see, my I was a little more freestyle at the time… Sadly the sentiment has remained pretty much intact over the years.
La chupacabra vive!
March 28th, 2006
1:34 a.m.
So my ex-girlfriend’s son just turned 19 on Monday. Jesus… Makes a man feel old. No, he’s not my son… biologically impossible and all…
Hell of a kid… I miss him. Aside from the vast collection of writing spawned from that era, I’d say getting to watch him become a young man was the most rewarding. And like I told him once, if I ever have a son, I hope he is just like Caleb.
On another topic: I hate my job sometimes. Not the job itself, exactly, just some of the morons I work with. I’m not going to name names, but it feels like I might be better of[f] working with goats and monkeys… and then I could train the monkeys to ride the goats.
Attention:
You may have already won a goat!
The bit about goats was inspired by something Fed and I were joking about when we lived together in Open Air Shopping Mall, CA. And my son has actually wound up quite a bit like my ex’s son. There are many worse people to emulate.
Not all my posts were about my life, however.
Charles broke the cycle!
March 29th, 2006
9:51 p.m.
Way to go Charles for breaking the 6 and 1/2 yr. cycle of sexlessness!
And I’m sure he’s thrilled that I’m bringing it back up again. Sorry, Chuck!
Beware the wrath of angry drunkards!
April 12th, 2006
12:52 p.m.
Okay, so El Mateo is hella pissed off. My roommate (well, I have 2, but only the male is an incurable ass) has decided to be a dickfor and try to f**k with me. So I figure he’s gonna have a great time come the 1st when he either has to move the f**k out or pay for the whole damn place himself.
okay, so I feel better now.
Anyway, I’m in the middle of playing a hella addictive RPG, so I gotta run,
mas cuando tengo tiempo.
Okay, a couple of notes with this one. This was the last time that I was living with anyone who wouldn’t someday be my wife. This dude moved his girlfriend in like a month after he moved in, and then they brought their dog, almost getting all of us kicked out. Also, wow! I used to have time to play video games. It was probably something on my PS2… Legend of Dragoon, maybe? Also, nothing was ever really resolved until later that year, but on the upside, I started seeing my future wife socially less than two months later. I mention socially because she was my subordinate at work, and we would have both gotten into trouble had our secret come to light.
Life and its nonlinear implications
April 14th, 2006
11:36 p.m.
So i just heard from this amazing girl I used to know back when i knew everything (high school). She is still as charming and pretty as she was back when I was an idiot. I am smiling. Maybe life hates me less than I had previously thought….
There is a downside, of course, of being cryptic. I have literally no idea who I was referring to. Since going back through all of these, I still have no clue whatsoever. But for that moment in time, a girl that I’d known nine years before (double that now) made the hell out of my day.
what i know to be true
April 21st, 2006
5:20 p.m.
i am the jelly in the doughnut of truth. talk to fed if you want to know. anyway, i’ve decided to give up the search for romance.if it wants to head my way, cool. if it wants to sneak up behind me and smack me on the head, awesome. but i’m not gonna put myself out there to be crucified on the lumber of betrayal… more later…
i need my own computer…now to watch the hockey
Even worse than cryptic social media nods are pseudo-philosophical nuggets of truth. “i am the jelly in the doughnut of truth”? What? Also, apparently this was when I had to do all my MySpacing in the Internet Cafe in downtown Berkeley.
absinthe is fun and educational
June 3rd, 2006
12:38 a.m.
okay. this is pretty neat. when i get my raise, i am so buying some of this for myself.
Today’s Topic: Friends
I’m not drunk enough yet to be telling all of you that I love you, so fucking forget about it, but I will say that run-on sentences are my all time favorite. Bonus Points if you remember the classic “Great American Novel Which Will Get Me Out Of My House Before I Turn 18” (involving lesbian goldfish). Okay, I was reading a lot of Tom Robbins at the time, and it sounded about right.
I apologize in advance for any spelling errors which may occur- I refuse to edit. I’m on a roll, here.
Anyway, friends.
Thank you to those who have stood by me when I doubt that I deserved it, and many debts are owed to those who, regardless, wished me well. My gratititude to those who have inspired me, and {insert synonym for “thank you” here} to the asshole who convinced me to move down here.
Okay, that’s enough of that.
SAYING OF THE DAY:
“Behold, I send you out as geeks among the nerds.”
MATT WORD OF THE DAY
futilaerobics- (n) the exercise in futility
No more of the Days….
MIZTLE’S:
WHAT THE FUCK……
MAN?
Damn tweeeeekers at it again….
okay, I’m done.
NO COMMENT.
GRRRRRR….. FUCK OFF!
RANGER BOB FOR PRESIDENT ’08
Imagine, if you will, a world wherein this was an acceptably written blog entry. This was close to the halfway point of the Desert Years, and it shows. Just reiterations of the greatest hits I replayed over and over again for myself, punchlines to jokes which were only funny to kids strung out on drugs. I stand by the Word of the Day, though.
I’m getting old. Man.
July 7th, 2006
6:01 p.m.
So it takes me almost a whole hour to get out of bed in the morning now. I have my grandfather’s knees, I somehow banged the hell out of my elbow on the wall when I was sleeping, and I have to hold my lower back when I stand up from a long convalesence in any type of chair or sitting apparatus. Well, I can’t be that old, I still can’t get to sleep before dark, no matter how exhausted I am. Old people would be asleep by now. Maybe I’m just midlife. Hmmm, I really kind of want to have a Kick-Ass crisis. The problem is that if I date a woman half my age… well I’m only 26, so that’s just wrong… what’s 2/3 of 26? Is that less creepy? Fuck Math.
So I’m gonna go do this thing next weekend, and it’s a surprise, so I can’t tell you. But it’s gonna be cool. I might even take pictures.
Okay, whatever, I can tell you’re not interested.
So I need to get a new computer and some internet access of my own so I can inflict these on everybody more frequently.
News on the Book:
Did I mention I’m still working on the Book? Right now I’m picking out music for the film adaptation. Kinda want to end it with “Blood and Fire.” Think that would rock. Too bad I’m not famous already, with a rapport with my editor so that I could just summarize the novel and get an advance so that I could quit my job and just fucking write the thing. Of course, if I were a famous writer…
Not your problem!
I hope everyone has had a fun however long it has been since you last sat through my rantings.
((Stole the Sidebar from a friend) Just so we are all on the same page, I have ceased droning on about the Book)
Okay, gonna go read my friend’s blog now. Maybe even get me a subscription. Boo-yah!
Until next time, Drink Hella and Don’t Drunk Dial Me!
Unless you’re cute.
And single.
No boyfriends and/or husbands.
Legally separated is okay.
I’m going now before I get myself into trouble.
The book in question is something that I’ve been specifically not working on since 2001. It’s the story of all the fun adventures that I somehow survived between 1997-2001. Since that was posted I’ve written about two pages of an outline and some character notes. As everyone can see, I’ve felt like an old man for practically forever. I have left in the boo-yah and other embarrassing nonsense as a cautionary tale to myself in 2015. Stop trying to be cool! As for the “this thing”, again I have not the slightest clue… Dear God, I romanticized the hell out of this in my head when I decided to start up my current website.
Poet’s Heaven
July 24th, 2006
10:18 p.m.
So I think I’m going to poet’s heaven when I die. That, or eternal damnation in Boise…
On a side note, I’ve decided that being a chunky monkey isn’t all bad. I mean, I’m rarely cold come the winter months.
Oh.. so that secret mission of mine was to go to Seattle last weekend for my mom’s 50th birthday. Awww…. I know, I’m sweet. She said it was the best birthday present ever, but to be fair, this is the first time in 26 years that I’ve remembered it.
Beers are good food.
Look for Ranger Bob to make a comeback in ’07.
I want to be in love again. Well… reciprocated love, anyway. Hell, I’ll take married love, again…
I’m moving this month. I don’t know where to. Anyone got a couch?
Something more eloquent next time, I promise.
Or the time after that…
I edited out half of this post, as it was nonsensical, at it irritated me. So apparently “this thing” was doing something nice for my mom. Go figure. As I wrote in today’s column about love, it took a while to find my footing with my wife. Part of this was to keep up appearances to the handful of coworkers who were “in my extended network,” and part of me, I’m sure, was genuinely longing for the butterflies.,
Bargaining With Bi-Polar Bears
August 20th, 2006
8:18 p.m.
How is it that the world can seem so cold in the California sun? Feel so empty surrounded by my friends, and so meaningless when I’m working somewhere where I’m doing what love (no pen in company ink jokes) (it would take away from the dry sarcasm)? Okay, so my work is not that which I’d envisioned….. ever…… but I it’s not shoveling shit (literally), so I suppose it can’t be entirely terrible. I can’t wait until my manic swing so I can actually get some shit done- this depression shit is fun for self-abuse (I’m en fucking fuego with the D.E.’s!), but notably inconvenient for accomplishing anything.
I am house/dog sitting this weekend for my best friend while he’s off watching kick ass baseball, and generally not working. Lucky bastard! Although, on the plus side, his dog stopped barking at me sometime this afternoon. That’s a start, right?
I have come to realize that I have no life.
I work 45+ hours a week, often with mixed shifts, and rarely have my days off together. I talk to my two best friends about 4x/wk, my mother about 5x, and see my lady-friend once or twice. God… for the most part, I’ve even stopped drinking. Gotta remedy that shit.
But, to address the title of this epistle, I guess I won’t be bargaining with the BPB’s anytime soon. Last time I did that was Winter ’96, I couldn’t write for a month and a half (of course, that might improve my productivity at this point), and I wound up dating a Whale’s Tail (Not her real name) (Also, not an accurate representation of her physical beauty)(Of course, I am trying to protect my image, so I am unlikely to accurately represent any of the physical properties of my ex-girlfriends)(except for Desert Tiger, she had a booty hotter than a slutty Latina pop star). Wow. This paragraph is really, actually very small.
I’m going to go get food now.
Don’t die. (also, sort of for me)
(well, more TO me).
This is the first mention on any platform that I’ve made about Flor (my lady-friend). I had just recently gotten another promotion at work, and the hours were starting to pile up. I was still on the hunt for somewhere new to live, and had to be out by no later than the second week of September, 2006.
Would you like to ride with Batmart?
September 22nd, 2006
10:30 p.m.
Found out my paternal grandparents are dead. That’s cheery. I also managed to track down my dad’s phone number though as of yet I am still too chicken shit to call. What do you say to a man with whom you’ve never even spoken? “Hey dad, it’s your son. You know, the one you’ve never met because {insert parental bullshit here}? Just saw Grandpa died. Bummer. So anyway, ever thinking of leaving Idaho for awhile and coming to visit? Didn’t think so. Well, good talking to you. Yeah, we’ll keep in touch. Yeah, good talkin’ to you too… Dad. Yeah. Bye.” Click.
And that’s the version in my head that goes well…
I never got to know my dad. He and my mom divorced shortly after I was born. Apparently, he didn’t want kids, and tried to kill my mother while she was pregnant with me. Of course, I’ve heard only one side of the story, but if bi-polar disorder is hereditary, then I guess I can’t deny the possibility. I don’t know. It’s not my job to play apologist for my folks. Nor my son for me. Not that I have one. I almost had one. Once.
Did I ever mention that I hate ex-call girls from Panama? I hate ex-call girls from Panama!
Bi-Polar Disorder. Department of Redundancies Department. Assisted Living. Okay, that one’s a little abstract. Sorry.
And sorry for the meloncholia. Just need to get it out from time to time.
Same Batmart Time Same Batmart Channel
I know this one is a little bit of a downer, but I found the topic wonderfully juxtaposed against the knowledge that around this time, I had the very beginnings of a son. And also, that I never got to speak to my own father. Too many old wounds from before I was even born.
I’m going to leave you all here, as even though my new content is negligible, I’ve still given you quite a bit to read. This collection chronicles my life from the beginning of my MySpace blog to the moment (more or less) when I began to be a dad. I’ll do up the next part (Pregnancy and Other Mental Illnesses) for next week.
Until then, thanks again for reading!
-Tex
Same Batmart Time, Same Batmart Channel