Reclaimed

Ever fall in love with a song that embodies your love for someone else? Ever lose that love and the song with it?

while i don't need to go into details, needless to say this song was lost to me. but as with all things lost, it was eventually found again. it turns out that i put the song on my MP3 player and forgot about it. i guess i had put it on my MP3 player and forgot about it (the song and the player), but now that I'm working I've become reacquainted with my MP3 player and this song:



the first few time i heard it on the player i couldn't stop thinking of her. i knew how she felt about the song, in my mind i could see her fucking to it again...

with everything taken from me, i refused to give this up. so when the song came up i wouldn't skip, wouldn't tune it out.

while the empty place where my heart once was still aches on occasion, i can now listen to the song, and enjoy the music.

Exile

The Ice-cream Has Melted

Remember when you were a kid and you used to tear ass out of the house to answer the hypnotic call of the Ice-cream Man? After the sadist (and part time heroin addict) made you ran for half a block you finally arrived at the side of a converted van to request over priced ice-cream and candy via faded hieroglyphics that were once pictures of tasty treats.

 

Ok, so my rose colored glasses may need a re-tinting, but needless to say I have a clear memory of the trucks as do we all.

 

My recollection of the trucks is primarily from the mid 80’s, when I was old enough to get (take) money from my mom to hunt down the trucks, but even back then they looked pretty beat.

 

Today on my way to work I saw something that kind of made me pause (and driving through an intersection while doing a nostalgic pause is never a good idea.) The truck I saw was just that a truck, no wait, the word “truck” doesn’t cut it on this one. It looked like a mommy and daddy FedEx truck did their “special hug”, then made a trip to the clinic, had it aborted, and someone decided to sell ice cream out of it.

 

The sides of the truck had no distinguishable markings of an ice-cream truck. Where before the pictures you “ordered” from were stickers, these were what I could only guess as photo copies adhered with packing tape. Piles of “fun-dip” littered the dashboard, some so bleached by the sun I can only assume the sugar that was once inside had already evolved (and was possibly driving the truck.) the truck looked dirty, disgustingly dirty, hell it’s was as filthier than Christina Aguilera’s tampon (providing she uses one.)

 

As I watched this dysentery delivery system I couldn’t figure it out. Perhaps these are the thoughts that keep people like me from driving said trucks but wouldn’t:

1. a clean truck attract more people?
2. better pictures sell more product?
3. you at least try to hide how creepy you are?

 

Back in the 1950’s (when gas stations still did full service) we’re these guys rolling around in a truck that glinted in the sun with white suits and a advice for troubled kids with skinned knees?

 

Yeesh, at the rate the quality of the ice-cream trucks are going down how do they expect to lure kids into the back of the truck for the “special ice-cream”?

 

 

*moral of this rambling-story- Walnuts.

 

Exile

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it's just not fair *update*

it's not fair... after months of trying the girl from the bowling alley finally agreed to go out with me. i have a lunch date with her at 11am. unfortunately it's 7:30am and i still haven't fallen asleep yet.

we finally get to go out amd i'm either going to be a zombie, or i'l drink a monster and be annoyingly hyper.

i've been laying here since 3am tossing and turning, with only a nap to show for it.

*sigh* like i don't have enough going against me right now with being nervous about embarrasing my self.

oh well, she'll prolly stand me up like last time, hehehe

**Update**

i got a txt message from her at 9:30:

"Hey honey. My sister was in cherr this morning & they think she broke her ankle so im headed to kaiser with her right now. im going to have to rain check w/ u."

yeah, so the lunch date was canceled. sad thing is this isn't the first time she's canceled, last time was in December.

kinda funny, december was also the last time i acctually tried asking a girl out... maybe i'll have better luck in June.

Exile

Nerdism Embeded

I decided to add some new songs to my MP3 player to tune out the scilence of working till 2am. now, when i say new, i use the term very loosely, the music on my laptop is anything but new.

but, it did lead me to discover something new about an old song...

We've all heard the song Weapon Of Choice by Fatboy Slim...
yes, yes you have, but you probably remember it as "that song in the video with Christopher Walken dancing."

here's a little refreasher for you:



when this song originally came out it was on the radio all the time, so often was it on that it became as familar as the hum of the truck's engine it's self. in fact it's been forever since i've acctually listened to the words, but having it on my MP play exposed me to a chrous unbeknowst to me.

about mid song, right before Mr. Walken dances infront of the mirrors there's is a chrous that struck me familiar...

it goes: "walk without rythum, and it won't attract the worm..."

the first time i dismissed it as giberish
the second time my ear was pricked
the third got the gears turning
and before another repitition i remembered where it was from...



My inner nerd resonated like a tuning fork at this

yes, i read Dune, and i knew the ways of the desert...


Exile

Haiku Fridays

Whether you want to remember or not, whether you want to think about it or not, there are always things that remind you of the hurt that you can’t forget. While cleaning out my e-mail I found this Haiku Friday post at the very bottom of my inbox. I e-mailed to my self around this time last year instead of posting it. It’s been sitting there this whole time, a remnant of a bad memory…

 

 

When you had left me
I thought it was the distance
but that wasn't true
 
Blamed me for it all
my past hook-ups, and your son
those were all lies too
 
you wanted me gone,
you had eyes for another...
any other lies?

 

 

 

A year later, and this worthless heart is still chugging along…

 

exile

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This Left My Blood Boiling

According to the hypa-christian at work, “the only reason gay want the right to get married is so that they can prove they’re just like everyone else.”

 

I think that’s the same logic the Blacks employed with that whole “right to vote thing”

 

 

 

Exile

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a weighty thought

why is it every time i weigh my self i suck in my gut? it's not like it will make me lighter (or that i care if i am)
 
am i alone on this one?

 

exile

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holy shit! for the first

holy shit! for the first time ever i went to Wal-Mart to buy wiper fluid and only bought wiper fluid!

Can't Save'em All

The janitor at my work called in and quit today because he won the lottery.

 

Well… he won a lottery…

 

Then again, maybe he didn’t.

 

The janitor at my company is a good guy, always nice, but not as fast as the rest of us. He tends to make bad decisions, and now he’s going to fall into the worst of them.

 

Back in December he was contacted by mail about winning a seven million dollar lottery and now all he has to do is send them five hundred measly dollars and they’ll send him his seven million.

 

*audible sigh*

 

Yeah, they’ve been working him for three months and they’re now closing the trap, and to make matters worse he’s so excited about winning that he’s already quit his job.

 

It blows me away that people still fall for these things, but as long as there are people ignorant to this stuff they’ll keep scamming.

 

Now, this part of the post gets a bit tricky because I’m writing all this as it happens, I’ll break it up into parts as I learn more.

 

Part 1

I found out about this when I got into work tonight and quickly sought out one of his friends that works here to see if there’s a way to save him. Mike, his buddy, was on his way out to meet with him tonight, but had no idea how to break it to him in a way that wouldn’t offend him. (how do you tell someone they’re a dumbshit?)  So I coached him on a few points to make, and then printed out Wikipedia’s article on Lottery Scams. Unfortunately it’s all I could do. (on a side note I learned that a lottery cannot ask for any money at all, even $0.32 to mail you a check, all their expenses must come directly from the winnings.)

 

The only thing the janitor has going for him is the irony of his financial situation, he’s too poor to “win the lottery.” He’s already indebt to the pay day advance places (in case you don’t have those, they’ll loan you what you’d get in a pay check with high interest, then you sign your paycheck over to them) and his credit is shot, so there’s no chance of a loan elsewhere. Also, none of his friends want to loan him money because either they think it’s a scam (a duh) or they’re just as poor.

 

Part 2

A sad update to this little story is that Mike just got back to the office (while I’m writing this) and told me that the janitor not only quit but is driving around town in a suit anxiously awaiting his riches.

 

It turns out that the “lottery” is actually part of an online game where you click on numbers to win a prize, and he clicked enough times…

 

Part 3

I was just got off the phone with the janitor and he wasn’t too happy with me doubting his fortune to be. I used every ounce of tact I had to make sure I got the info I needed to help him without insulting him. Unfortunately he’s only gotten one letter from them (in the mail) and the rest has been through the phone (no paper trail).

 

-The name of the company is something like “Gold Rush” (yes it’s vague, but this is the info I got from him, he wasn’t happy I was doubting.)

 

-I also have a phone number with a first and last name. Granted, most times you talk to Mark Wilson in tech-support, the person on the other end of the phone is Samir and is working at an outsourced calling company in India.

 

The good news is that the first two of my three major questions came up as “No”.

Question 1: did you give them you Social Security Number?

Question 2: Did you give them your Bank Account Numbers?

Question 3: Do they have your Home Address?

 

(Question 4: will be if he would like to buy a bridge? Or maybe even the statue of liberty.)

 

Part 4

A little bit of research shows that the phone number for “the lottery guy” is a Cell phone based out of Jamaica. I called the janitor and told him, but be “matter-a-fact-ly” told me that he already knew the calls were coming out of Jamaica.

 

I think I’ve officially done everything I could do. I feel like I’m about to see a puppy get run over in the middle of the freeway, I wanna stop it from happening, but it looks like that pup is gonna be a pancake…

 

 

 

 

 

Ever since this started I’ve been rolling it all around in my head, “why would someone fall for something so obvious? And how can he be so stubborn to not listen to those trying to help him?”

 

I’ve been racking my brain over this, but I think I’ve finally figured it all out. Falling for this lottery for him is much the same a falling in love.

 

You find that person that you think is perfect for you and everyone around you is tearing them down. The people you call friends are telling you that the one you love is a thief, and even through you trust these people, you’re in love, and they just don’t understand. You’ve been completely taken; you’re broke, miserable, and financing her trip to Vegas with your alimony payments.  

 

 

 

On A Positive Note: I tried, despite the outcome, I tried.

 

 

Exile

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Me So Thorny

this has been the longest weekend ever. not only did i have to work at work on saturday, but i spent sunday and monday doing hard labor with my dad. sunday was painting in the hot ass sun. and monday was spend trimming back "Jurassic portch".

see that pic? see those thorns? those bastards are sharp, not only did they put a hole in the glove, but one in my shin as well.

on a positive note: the money i made this weekend was enough to cover my bills and make through the month.

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