I'm Proud Of You Kayten

This is a comment I left on Kayten's blog (http://privatevivification.blogspot.com/). You might want to hit her blog to get everything I'm writing about.



The days of the scarlet letter are long since past. While we do live in a society where we put so much emphasis on equality, we still regard women with strong sexual desires as whores.
is it possible to find everything you could ever want in one person? Sure, but it comes with a heavy price. Often times we sacrifice the things we want and choose complacency over happiness. "well, I'm married with children, i guess i don't need sex."

We are a generation attempting to follow the false examples our parents placed before us. We all grew up with mom and dad sitting on opposite ends of the couch, while TV preached morality.
the ideal marriages that we fondly look back on as our guides are in fact false. marriages were not happy back then. Mom sacrificed her identity to become mom. Dad tied himself to the harness and pulled his yoke till he died. There was no love, just obligation. This is no longer the world we live in.

Our emotions are actually important, and we have no one to look to as a role model. We are on our own to find happiness and self realization.

Kayten had an affair. She had one because she had needs that should have been met, but weren't. This doesn't make her a bad person. She is a woman, a woman who is a mother. She is a woman who works, and wants to enjoy life. She is doing her best, and we should be proud of her.
as she said before, she doesn't advocate this life, but she does live it.

She has not given up on passion, she has not given up on life. Kayten is doing the best she can and deserves our support.

If you can't see any of this in her, then not only are you blind, but you live a very passionless life.


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

Thursday Joke

Yes, I copied this from someone's e-mail. but it's worth it


A business man got on an elevator. When he entered,
there was a blonde already inside who greeted him
with a bright,

"T-G-I-F."

He smiled at her and replied, "S-H-I-T."

She looked puzzled and repeated, "T-G-I-F," more
slowly.

He again answered, "S-H-I-T."

The blonde was trying to keep it friendly, so she
smiled her biggest smile, and said as sweetly as
possibly, "T-G-I-F."

The man smiled back to her and once again,
"S-H-I-T."

The exasperated blonde finally decided to explain.

"'T-G-I-F' means 'Thank Goodness It's Friday.' Get
it, duuhhh?"

The man answered, "'S-H-I-T' means 'Sorry, Honey,
Its' Thursday.':



Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

New Random Pic Post

Read and enjoy
http://randompicturerandomstory.blogspot.com/


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

A Muse Meant

An awful night's sleep last night. Occasionally I can hear my downstairs neighbor. Last night he wouldn't stop coughing. It sounded like a jet engine passing a cat. It was too random to tune out. I had to sleep on the couch.

I wake up groggy as hell, I want more sleep, but I know I need to get to work. Rushing to my truck I think I might be early to work. Upon starting my truck I realize I'm going to be late. My truck is running on dust. The gas station is in the opposite direction, this is going to take a big wet bite out of my drive time.

Usually I only have to drive the 22 freeway about 10 feet, thanks to my trip to the gas station I have to take it for a lot longer. I considered walking, but I'm too damn lazy for that. Bumper to bumper till I get back to where I would have been if I hadn't gotten gas nearly 45 min ago.

I pull up to work, I'm running late. Way late. The back door is my best bet. Walking up to the back door I realize my security pass is on my desk. Now I have to walk all the way around the building. The building, by the way, has a crap load of windows, all of them used by our bosses to watch us come in late.

I rush to my desk and unpack. A brown paper bag reminds me that I don't have any food for lunch. It's either don't eat or go out today.

As soon as I sit down the problems start rolling in. Work piles up and I'm officially swamped. Everyone gives me something, and it's all priority. For every order I process I get two more. To make matters worse there's a glitch in the software. Errors are being generated thought me without my involvement.

Soon I'm called over to the desk of our head of logistics. "Are you planning on going to Florida today?" he asks me. The idea became more and more appealing as I found out that I put the address in the wrong field in an overnight emergency order. The customer go the bill and we got the laptop.

I'm constantly getting bombarded with e-mails about a project that is 3 months behind that will soon be 4 months behind.

My brain feels hot, waves of frustration I suppose. It's like I'm ready just to shut off my computer walk out and deal with it all tomorrow. Damn the consequences.

But then I check my e-mail. There, among the spam and porn rests an e-mail. It is from my muse. Just knowing that there's a letter from her begins to lift my spirit. Opening the e-mail is like standing in a snow flurry, each icy flake cooling down my mind. When she says silly things I smile, when she says naughty things I smile more. She says thing that I haven't hear in so long that I could swear she is the first person to have ever said them to me.

I write back to her and tell her all the things that I can possibly say. All the things that I doubt I can capture in words. It lifts my spirit just to know that she appreciates what I write, and that she smiles at my corny jokes.

And with only this brief encounter with my muse, I can look back and see that it was actually a good day today.




Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

Drunk Post! REady SEt go!

Wahoo! I'm so msashed right now. I'm so drunk even my typos have a slur. it's been a while since this.

In sobriety my mind is a malstrom of thoughts, chaotic, there is no peace. but being drunk, the machine has come to a halt. i acctually skipped. my thoughts are random, but really, aren't all my thoughts?

sperm travel at .001 mph.

no i don't know what that is in canadian.

it's true, most of the the people that read the tripe i call writing are canadian. it's ok, i love them for it. canada is to america what america is to mexico... do you buy piggy banks down here?

Did you know i have a friend named jenna that is on par with me sexually (well, nearly) that is engaged. i could never provide her a future, but man the present would rock her world.

I also have friend named jenni, I'm sure she's reading this thinking oh god, please don't mention me. jenni is cute as hell, but I'm far to tainted for her. it's ook, i'd enjoy making out with her, but it will mostlikely never happen. after all, i can't seem to console people on death. i tried, i fail, I'm used to it.

I have a muse, i'd mention her name, but she knows who she is. she is fucking incredible. i don't care how far away, it's true. if i close my eyes i can hold her in my mind. sometimes i think that if i hold her tight enough that i can find the elusive mayfly of peace. that i could feel as if I'm not who i am. sometimes i think that i could be happy in her arms, if only a moment. the times i think about this are the only times i can acctually sleep.

I want to write more about my muse. i want to tell the world that she is so wonderful, that with a single smile she can light up the world. i want to say all of this. but i know that any one who could see this would know, and anyone who can't doesn't deserve to.

i know that all the pain i feel will pass, i knwo that i am transparent right now, but that will pass too. it's like i am what the evil of the world would create if it purged it's self of what good it had. tainted as i may be, I'm still evolving.

did you know i've distroyed every life that has ever come close to me? meh. if you know the story of icharas then you knwo that you shouldn't fly so close to the sun. such a sunny disposition. no i know.

carmine is awsome. i wish he's post more. something tells me i don't want him on a thought sensitive dimond heist, but i'd love to buy him a beet.

the hot libraian is cool. i would enjoy hanging out with her. she's the kind of girl that would like to see kung-fu huste with me. niether hanky nor panky, just to go out. i dont' think she'll call back.

my favorite game to play at parties is lightning reaction. you can find it at www.stupid.com. if you have the means i highly recomend it. mind has served me well for years.

i would love to have a woman tell me she desires me. to get naked and tell me that, atleast for the moment, i am the most important thing to her.

i am Arthur Dent. if you don't get it, you may have to read a book.

I am jack's sense of rejection.

you're reading this at work. you occationally look over your shoulder for your boss. you think as long as you minimize you'll be fine. just so you know, he knows. you know he knows. he knows you know he knows.

i have to pee.

...

i don't any more. yes i took care of that in the bathroom, no it wasn't in the sink.

i think i drank every palletable form of alcohol in my apartment. it was worth it. it drowned out thoughts of an empty champaign bottle and two glasses on the counter last night. i don't want to think about it.

i watched sin city last night. thoughly enjoyed it. it fed my male bloodlust. heros rising out of the darkness in a world where hero's are scare.

And now a random Johnny The Homicida Maniac Quote: Dear diary, today i stuffed some dolls full of dead rats i put in the blender... I'm wondering if there really is something wrong with me.

earlier tonight i was immasculated. it wasn't significant to anyone but be but it happened. while in my gym class i set up the leg extention machine. as soon as i was done some big guy pushed me out of the way saying "mind if i use this." before i could answer he was already working out. i said, "sure, go right ahead." i know why i couldn't stand up for my self. i knew what she had taken from me. i knew it was petty for me to blame her.

i have a statue in my room. it's small, barely a foot tall. when you look at it, you see a woman infront of a skull alter in thong panties. she faces away from you, when you look at the alter there is a mirror wher you see her face. her entire torsoe seems to be torn away. i bought this because i seemed to speak to me. i was a symbol of vanity and death. everyone else thinks it's dumb.

i want to sleep. i want to feel like I'm weightless in oblivion. i dont' always get waht i want.

spell check is going to be hell on this one.

i have a king size bed and no one to share it with. it would be nice if that weren't true.

everytime you use the restroom you wash your hands. when you walk out you touch everything on you way back to your desk. not everyone washes their hands.

i know i'll be hungover tomorrow. i don't care. it's casual friday.

i want to chat with someone, late at night. unfortunately none ever IMs me. is it sad that no one IMs me, or is it sad that i miss that?

technically, if i go down on a lesbian it should be the same thing, but then, wouldn't it be the same thing for a gay guy?

While i write this, my muse is sleeping. she sleeps in a bed that is so far i can only dream of it. i imagine big cushy pillows and an oddly comphortable down comphorter. she grips a pillow to her breasts with eyes tight. durring the day she thinks of me, and smiles. at night she dreams of dreams that should never be tained by my kind. i want only to touch her, the rest will play it's self out as it does.

i loved a woman named susan bastian. she said she loved me. one day she stopped talking to me, stopped writing. i wonder where she is and how she's doing. i know she regards me as a stupid kid, a mistake.

one day i will prove my self to the world. i will become something great. in the end i will realize it was all worth it. but I'm not at the end, and i don't see it all as worth it.

alcohol fading, must publish before sobriety and reason prevail.

you know what? fuck spell check, tonight i will leave this raw.


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

Hey Baby, What's Your STD?

In the dating world there are plenty of hazards to be weary of. Statistically it seems that every puddle of love juice contains it's own sexual plague. The worst part of it all is that the biggest catalyst to the spread of these diseases is ignorance. You have no idea what your partner is carrying around in their love zone. Is it infested with creepy crawly things? Do they have some virus that the are completely un aware of? How the hell do you tell?

I'm personally from the school of "be open and honest," but that is most likely just me, and assuming anything other than that will be an e-ticket to damnation. Great. I know when I'm out in the dating world I get screened for STDs regularly. You know, pee in a cup, draw some blood, and get a lollipop to boot. But how do you get your partner to get tested?* You can't just say "hey, can you squirt that in a Petri dish, I need to be sure."

The worst part is that people get offended by such requests for tests. Personally I'd just whip out my test results and wave them around. To me that's a voucher for some good old fashion naughty time. I look at like the whole condom thing. Some people get all offend or bashful if they have to put on a condom, but isn't that saying "put that man meat in my love pudding"? Green light!

Now, I'm not saying you need a test every week, I'm even saying every month. I just think that if you've had a questionable partner or if you're changing from partner to partner on a semi regular basis you should get the screening.

I guess for some ignorance is bliss, until it burns when they piss.



*If anyone has ever found a good way to ask this question drop in the comments.


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

Do You Ever...

Completely rhetorical. But...

Do you ever...

1. Get so bored at work that you constantly use the restroom just as an excuse to leave your desk?
2. Get all uncomfortable when your undies are out of their groove?
3. Stare off into space, only to realize that you're actually staring at someone resulting in them getting all agitated?
4. E-MAIL IN ALL CAPS AND HAVE PEOPLE RESPOND WITH "STOP YELLING"?
5. Find your self so wrapped up in a TV show or movie that you start talking to the main character, arguing with them, and even becoming disappointed when they don't listen to you?
6. Offer someone a couple chips out of a bag and they reach in a touch every god damn chip with their unwashed hands?
7. Give someone a compliment and they take it as an insult? (you've lost weight!.... No, I didn't think you were that fat before... I mean you weren't huge... How about you're not as fat?)
8. Make a color coding (or different system) so complicated and detailed that you don't know how to work it?
9. Sit in traffic and see someone digging away at a booger and wish you could take a picture to blackmail them?
10. Go in the bathroom an hear someone letting out such a humorous string of farts you run out before you explode with laughter?
11. Have a sneeze that feels so good it can only be described as an "ol' factory orgasm"?
12. Find your mind drifting off to such dirty thoughts that when someone interrupts with a question that can't pull your self back to reality?
13. Make a list on your blog cause you can't think of anything else to write about?

Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

You Have Two Cows

I usually don't post junk mail, but i thought this was funny.


You have Two Cows

DEMOCRATIC You have two cows.Your neighbor has none.You feel guilty for being successful.Barbara Streisand sings for you.

REPUBLICANISM You have two cows.Your neighbor has none.So?

SOCIALIST You have two cows.The government takes one and gives it to your neighbor.You form a cooperative to tell him how to manage his cow.

COMMUNIST You have two cows.The government seizes both and provides you with milk.You wait in line for hours to get it.It is expensive and sour.

CAPITALISM, AMERICAN STYLE You have two cows.You sell one, buy a bull, and build a herd of cows.

BUREAUCRACY, AMERICAN STYLE You have two cows.Under the new farm program the government pays you to shoot one, milk the other, and then pours the milk downthe drain.

AMERICAN CORPORATION You have two cows.You sell one, lease it back to yourself and do an IPO on the 2nd one. You force the two cows to produce the milk of four cows. You are surprised when one cow drops dead. You spin an announcement to the analysts stating you have downsizedand are reducing expenses.Your stock goes up.

FRENCH CORPORATION You have two cows.You go on strike because you want three cows.You go to lunch and drink wine.Life is good.

JAPANESE CORPORATION You have two cows.You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cowand produce twenty times the milk.They learn to travel on unbelievably crowded trains.Most are at the top of their class at cow school.

GERMAN CORPORATION You have two cows.You engineer them so they are all blond, drink lots of beer, giveexcellent quality milk, and run a hundred miles an hour.Unfortunately they also demand 13 weeks of vacation per year.

ITALIAN CORPORATION You have two cows but you don't know where they are.While ambling around, you see a beautiful woman.You break for lunch.Life is good.

RUSSIAN CORPORATION You have two cows.You have some vodka.You count them and learn you have five cows.You have some more vodka.You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.The Mafia shows up and takes over however many cows you really have.

TALIBAN CORPORATION You have all the cows in Afghanistan, which are two.You don't milk them because you cannot touch any creature' private parts.You get a $40 million grant from the US government to findalternatives to milk production but use the money to buy weapons.

IRAQI CORPORATION You have two cows.They go into hiding.They send radio tapes of their mooing.

BELGIAN CORPORATION You have one cow.The cow is schizophrenic.Sometimes the cow thinks he's French, other times he's Flemish.The Flemish cow won't share with the French cow.The French cow wants control of the Flemish cow's milk.The cow asks permission to be cut in half.The cow dies happy.

FLORIDA CORPORATION You have a black cow and a brown cow.Everyone votes for the best looking one.Some of the people who actually like the brown one best accidentallyvote for the black one.Some people vote for both. Some people vote for neither.Some people can't figure out how to vote at all.Finally, a bunch of guys from out-of-state tell you which one youthink is the best-looking cow.

CALIFORNIA CORPORATION You have millions of cows.They make real California cheese.Only five speak English.Most are illegals.Arnold likes the ones with the big udders.

POLISH CORPORATION
You have two bulls.
Employees are regularly maimed and killed attempting to milk them.


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

Revelation

This whole time I've been looking at the darker side of all of this. is my nature, to look at the problems and find ways to fix them. This isn't a terribly bad thing, but it's not exactly fun to always see the bad in every situation, regardless of how much i strive to fix things, I'm still focusing on the bad.

Lately things have been at their worst, and knowing that i could not fix what has happened i felt as though i had no place to stand. i watched as the end came for me, and i began to welcome it. I've finally given up. i decided that i wouldn't think about how things went wrong, and why they did. And so i have given up.

With all my thoughts in chaos, swarming with depression there was no way out. It is only though giving up that i have found salvation. i realize that this is the end, but not the finale. This is not the finale at all. It's just the end of a chapter.

Lately my mind has focused on the fact that i was going to have to find some shitty apartment, and start my shitty life over. But why? There's no reason i have to. i am not going to simply shackle my self back down with my old life. I'm not just going to exist, i plan to live. i plan to make this next chapter far better than the last one. I've decided I'm going to have all the fun in live that I've denied my self for so long.

Yes, i say denied my self, there's no one else to blame, and there's no one else can solve this. I'm no longer going to focus on a life that I've lost, but rather work on a life worth living. There are plenty of things i plan on doing, things I've always wanted to do. Many people make a list of things to do before they die, but they make this list intending to die when they're done.

My list is quite different, it's going to be something remarkable. And while i don't have her in my life i will have something much better, freedom. No more holding back. i don't know what's commons next, but it's going to be fun.

Hell, i might just invade Canada!



Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

California Drivers, "Don't Blame Me, It's The Ass Hole In Front Of Me."

There really is nothing more interesting than the California driver. From the view of someone who is out side the state that the world revolves around these road warriors seem insane, inconsiderate, and impolite. This is a very accurate view point.

Let me give you an example:
Imagine, if you will a two lane street, the left turn lane is the on-ramp for the freeway. I am stuck in the left lane behind a large gas truck (the trucks that deliver gas to the gas station). This huge truck is trying to cut into the left turn lane from my lane. Needless to say no one is willing to let him in. Finally there's a break and he starts making his turn. Midway though a woman slams on the gas in her SUV and charges the gas truck. She quickly slams on the breaks and slide up to the truck's tires, it was as if she was expecting this enormous truck. Somewhere in her soccer mom mind she thought that charging a gas truck was a good idea. The truck driver, with out flinching pointed the appropriate finger at her and continued onto the free way.

Another example:
I pulled up to the gas station at the local Costco, where the lines for the pumps mirror the lines in the store. I'm fueling up my truck when the guy behind me pulls up inches away from my bumper. A moment or two goes by and my truck is full, of course the guy behind me is having a coniption fit that I'm taking this long. As I pull out the nozzle I realize the van in front of me is still filling up and he won't be done any time soon. So naturally I get back in my truck and start listening to the radio. From the corner of my eye I see the guy behind me panamimeing that he wants me to move and that I'm some kind of apple (I don't' read lips too well.) I realize this guy doesn't know that I'm completely boxed in so I decide to humor him and put my truck in reverse. I lean over the back of my seat and motion to him that he needs to back up. Frustrated he backs up... Right into the car behind him. My laughter quickly subsides as I notice the van in front of me is pulling out and I leave angry man to deal with his new friend.

As for my self:
I'm the guy who cuts into lanes at the last min to keep from waiting. Usually the (pick any freeway in CA) off ramp is backed up and of course I can't possibly wait in line. So I slow down in the lane next to the off ramp lane and jump in at the last min. There have been times I'll nearly exit on the shoulder trying to avoid waiting. Also, if I need to take a lane and no one will let me over, and they rarely do, I just swerve at them from my lane (I learned this one from my mom). What you do is act like you don't see them and swerve as if you were going to take their lane and didn't see them. This often frightens them so bad they slow down and you jump in.

I'm not a bad driver, I'm just creative.


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

What The Fuck Have I Done?

I thought what i was doing was right. i thought that is was the remaining kindness in my heart. i thought that it was a last act of love. It was just a means of letting her kick me in the teeth again.

Before we broke up* i had set up a huge surprise for her birthday. You see she's been really home sick lately, actually for a long while. So i set in motion these events: 1.) arranged a surprise party for her. 2) i flew her mom in from Colorado. 3) all of this was a big secret, she had no idea.

(*back story, the ex and i broke up recently because she cut me off from all physical intimacy.)

I took an entire day off of work to pick up her mom at the airport. i picked up balloons, cake, streamers and decorated. When she showed up she was surprised as all get out. She jumped for joy and thanked me for doing all this. For doing all this even though we broke up.

i thought i did something right.

After she opened her other gifts from her mom and her mom's friend (my present was flying her mom out here, a ticket i paid for months ago) they got to chit-chatting. As awkward as it felt to sit and talk with her and her mother i smiled. i didn't want to ruin her birthday, i wanted it to be happy. i restrained my self, i kept calm, when her mother and her mother's friend (who drove down from SLO) made comments about our break up i did not mention anything. They wanted to go out and have fun, but i couldn't muster myself up enough to go out with them.

It hurt too much.

So i told them to go out and have a girls night. i didn't want to go and watch my ex-girlfriend enjoy something that i created out of love for her when we were no longer in love. i didn't want to start pouting and drag everyone down. When they were getting ready to go i told her that if she needed someone to pick them up if they were too drunk to give me a call. i walked them out and loaded them all into the car, before they left i slipped $20 into her pocket in case they needed to call a cab. She said she'd give it back, i wasn't too worried about it.

i wanted to be by my self, i wanted to be alone, naturally i didn't want to be alone all by my self so i went out with my friends. i find that usually going out for an aimless night of drinking is always a good pick-me-up. The night went well, i made a cute girl smile and we sang happy birthday for our server. i even made her a b-day card out of a placemat and 4 color pens. The night went well and i felt good. Towards the end of the night she called me, letting me know that she was home and did not need me to pick them up. She also asked if i was going out to my parents house for the night, i hadn't planned on it. We finished our round of drinks and my friends dropped me off at home.

i crept in the house nice and quite like, i didn't want to wake anyone up. With her mom and friend over i figured someone had to sleep in the living room. So i went to my room and got ready for bed. Realizing the time, roughly 1:00 am, i figured i should let her know i made it home ok. i checked her room and found her mom and friend sleeping in her bed, it was a veritable snoring contest. i headed to the living room, figuring she was sleeping on the couch. There was a cat on the couch, but no ex. She wasn't on the couch. Naturally i was worried, maybe something happened. i grabbed my coat and keys and ran out to her parking spot, oddly enough her car was there...

Let's recap, the girl, who is now my ex, is missing. After a night of drinking she drove her mother and friend home. She called me to let me know she was home, but wanted to know if I'd be coming home. Then she went out at 1:00 am, leaving her car behind.

I doubt she walked to the store.



Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

Get Those Creative Juices Flowing... hehehe, Juices

I have the worst writers block right now. usually when I need/want to write I just clear my mind, see the subject, then my mind runs with the idea. Before long there is a torrent of ideas spilling out in front of me.

Lately I can't seem to clear my mind, with out that I can't get the wheels churning on anything other than the problems in my life. That energizing boosts one obtains for sexual intercourse can make anyone feel good. For me it not only energizes but also clears out the cobwebs. There have been some times where after a hearty session of sexual conquest I’ve typed up full stories, plot and characters, the works. But lately I barely have the kung-fu to keep this blog running. Hell, I have so little in fact, I’ve actually been writing about my self (I’m not a very good subject for writing, my imagination is far more fun then my reality, no I know).

Yup, sex is definitely the answer. A couple sessions of hot rabid monkey sex and I’ll mill out my novel in no time.
All I need is some sort of sexual benefactor. Does anyone want to contribute to a struggling young writer? You know what they say; charity begins at home… or in a car, or a hotel room…


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

What did you name your cat?

This is yet another set of questions I'm very curious about, and yes it's a bit naughty. What did you expect?

I'm hoping everyone will answer these questions, although it's mainly for the girls, guys, answer them as if you were a girl.

1. How do you refer to your vagina?
2. Do you have a particular name for said orifice?
3. Does it do any tricks?
4. Has anyone seen said tricks?
5. Have you ever made money off it?
6. Would you ever make money off it (again)?
7. Do you have a funny/embarrassing story about it? Would you share it?
8. Have you ever used it for storage? What did you store in it? (bodily fluids, other people, and hygiene products don't count, unless it's a funny story.)

Yes, I'm this immature that I want to know, and yes, I'm that bored that I bothered to type it out. Come on everybody, play along.

Participation counts for half your grade.


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

In Line

Standing in line, eleven items in hand, I looked for anything to distract me from the drab existence of waiting in procession. I clutched my purchases tightly, feeling overwhelmed by my own fool hearty nature. I didn’t intend to make a basket’s worth of purchases, nor did I intend to balance all of these good in my arms. Peering in every direction I looked to see if anyone else was suffering from the “consumer profiling” the 10 Items Or Less Line inflicted on us all.

Unfortunately, in nearly every direction I chose to gaze the lowest forms of life seemed to be swarming amidst the line. The children swung from cart to cart like retarded chimps, occasionally latching on to their mother’s sagging flesh. With one whelp slung over the mother’s shoulder it was clear that another one on the way. The children, crusted with chocolate and filth looked as if they emerged from the wallow their mother was conceived in. while one squealed another yelled, each one speaking it’s own primitive language. Paying heed to neither patron, nor proprietor, the children ran about in circles, carelessly knocking items off the shelves. They continued their rampage of chaos, throwing random assortments of candy and other into their cart; one of the children tripped and fell flat on his face.

He landed face first on the unforgiving linoleum tile, while his good times could be easily stopped, it was apparent his momentum could not. Though no accurate measurement could be made one could safely assume that he slid on his face for at least a foot or two. The force at which he made contact with the ground left a smear of chocolate and dirt on the already grimy floor. The dirt spawn’s mother immediately yelled for the manager, ignoring her wounded son, and began jabbering about lawsuits and safety. As the once shrieking child let out a delayed wail, the blanket covering the child slung over the mother’s shoulder fell to the floor. The creature nested upon the mothers shoulder was likened to that of a living abortion, the organism belonged in a jar, not a grocery store. While I stared in horror at the tiny abomination I soon became aware of the bawling of the wounded animal on the floor.

Its cries for the mother went unheard as she continued to badger the manager for compensation for the well-earned misfortune of her son. While attempting to get up from the ground began convulsing, fully enveloped in the full throws of a tantrum. The red fluid running from his consisted of equal parts blood and snot. Glaring at this child I could see that this was the first time his bad behavior had actually been punished.

A welcomed call from the cashier proclaimed me next, a status I gladly accepted. While I stepped over the pile of grime and social waste, I couldn’t help but to laugh to my self. This out of control child, for a brief moment, was the furthest he had ever been from being a brat. He felt humility and say the consequences for his poor behavior, and all because I tripped him.


*If by some chance this was your child I apologize. I will do everything I can to make it so you are no longer allowed to breed.


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

Ruts

I just heard this over my cubicle wall:


It's not the length of your rut, it's the depth. You can have a long shallow rut or a short deep rut. Unfortunately a short deep rut is also called a grave.


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

What I've Been Singing In My Head Today

*Sing to "my fair lady to get full effect"

Data entry sucks my ass,
it stinks like gas,
next time I'll pass.
I hate punching away on these keys,
it's really boring.

Don't try and tell me it's just work,
with that smirk,
you god damn jerk.
there's so many things I could do instead,
I could be in bed and snoring.


...It goes like that for a few more versus. Can your brain atrophy?


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

THE WORST THING I'VE EVER WRITTEN!

Danger, the short story you're about to read sucks. It sucks hard. It was late at night and I needed to turn in something, anything. From the foulest realms of sleep deprivation I give you a short story so awful I couldn't even turn it in.

You were warned...


With weathered skin and a chapped smile, the old man waiting for register five clutches his bouquet of roses. With Valentines Day long since past it’s good to see that there are some that keep the sprit of love alive.

At first glance his out of date clothes, scuffed dress shoes, and brown driving cap gave him the look of someone who fell out of the fifties and landed in a Ralph’s. But watching this man inch his way toward the register, flowers in hand, I couldn’t help but to wonder how, after all those years, he kept the fires burning. With nothing but the “never ending checkout line” to look forward to, I figured I had the time to find out what this old timers story was. After changing lines I made a quick introduction, a nice enough old guy he seemed quite happy to have someone take an interest in him. Once the pleasantries subsided I began to inquire about the flowers, nearly double the size of the traditional bouquet for flowers. Adjusting his glasses he said that the roses were for the love of his life, and that he always bought her flowers for their anniversary. I asked him to tell me about his wife, and how it was that after so many years they were able to keep the love in their relationship.

He went on to tell me that as a young man he had chased many women, but very few had ever interested him. He found that although you could go dancing till the cows came home, not one of them could make him happy. I agreed with him and he continued on telling me about how it was that eventually hew grew quite bored with chasing the same women at the local dance hall and decided to look elsewhere. He had been all over the country, living a few years in each town, but never finding the one woman he could see him self with for the rest of his life. “Love is a fickle beast,” the old man said, “the more you hunt it the faster it’ll run off.” Until one day, he made his way back home, and there, in his old hometown, was a woman of remarkable beauty. She had moved there shortly after he left, naturally he considered chasing her, but she wanted no part of it.

“For two years we were court’n,” the old man exhaled, “and in two years I thought I’d never win over this woman’s heart.” Until finally, one day he asked her to marry him, he told her that he was going to go back out into the world again if she didn’t say yes. “It wasn’t until I was finally packing up my roadster and getting ready to leave my old hometown for good that she said yes.” Said the old man, waving his finger skyward. He told me that her saying she’s marry him was only the beginning. It was a long time until they attempted to have their first child, and even longer until they tried again. As he described it they had a quiet life, not much excitement, and not too much fun. He said he watched as the fun things in his life began to fade away, like when you trade in your flashy car, for a family car. The days of dancing and romancing gave way to quite reservation.

“She provided me with comfort and solace, I never had to worry about her running off with another man,” The old man educated me. “Yup, that was my wife.” I pointed to the flowers in his hand and stated that his wife will be quite happy to get those. He looked at me and started to laugh, “these aren’t for my wife; these are for my new girlfriend.” I quickly apologized and asked how long ago she left us. “Left us? What do you mean son?” the old man asked, staring at me blankly. I explained that I assumed that his wife had passed on, seeing as though the flowers were for his new girlfriend. “I’m sorry son, but I think you got the wrong idea, I said the flowers are for the love of my life, not my wife.” He explained that shortly after they were married they were divorced, he also said it was the longest year of his life. He further enlightened me on his vow to never get tied down to one woman again.

“Don’t you see son,’ he said, ringing up his purchase at the register. “There’s a reason dogs always chase cars, but never catch’em.”





Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

This Rocks

I have a new post on http://randompicturerandomstory.blogspot.com/

It's pretty heavy.


Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

Discharge In My Pants

Ok, WTF? I know I don't wear dress pants all that often but do you normally turn into an electrostatic generator? Every time I move today I'm building this massive electrical current in my pants. Now I know what you're thinking, "oh sexy," but it's quite bothersome. First off my pants keep making a popping sound from the static, I'm zapping my self on every door in the office, and my pant legs are clinging to my skin. Not comfy. As you can imagine this leaves nothing to the imagination as well. I'm pulling at my pants like I've got a rash.

I know there's a way to undo this, but I have no idea what it is.




Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

Can't Win, Can I?

Ok, I had to bail on a friend of my on Friday night and I can't help to feel like I'm in for a big "you suck speech." I called her the day before we were going to hang out to cancel. Figured I called early enough so she could make other plans. No return call. I called a couple times over the course of the weekend, no return calls. I know this chick is going to be pissed, and while she does have the right to be, I suppose, I did offer her a full day (as opposed to just Friday night) still no call.

The funny thing is that I know she was going to bail on me, but nope, I'm going to get it because I bailed first.

What did I do that night? I went to see Gallagher (http://www.gallaghersmash.com/index2.htm) with my Ex Girlfriend. No, I'm not that much of an ass that I would blow off a girl to hang out with my ex, but here's the thing... For our anniversary two months ago she bought me a ticket to see the Master Of melons (and one for herself, naturally) with the breakup, the new job, and now looking for a new apartment I completely forgot. Yup, judgment call, it was a matter of principals, and it was my ticket, I wouldn't give it up.

Does this make me an asshole? Or does this mean I'm taking a stand? Does it help if it wasn't a date with my ex, but just two friends hanging out?

The best part is that everyone at out table was celebrating their anniversary, we were the only people celebrating ours even though we broke up.



Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com

Thank My Buddy At "...and that's why god hates kittens" For Leading Us All To Hell (click here for more)

Terri Schiavo game


...and Terri Schiavo said "what would the pope do?"



Exile

Original_exile@hotmail.com