was supposed to go hang at the bar with a friend, but it seems that friend either passed out at their keyboard, or chose not to go and didn’t know how to tell me. meh. either way, here i am, 0124 on 18 Aug 2015. SO much shit’s gone on in the 3 years since my last post, I wouldn’t know where to begin. I can say this much though – I don’t even really wanna be making a blog post. I’m just so sick and tired of the monotonous drivel that facebook spews out on a regular basis and I needed a change of pace. Seems everyone’s going ‘instagram’ now – I guess that’s the ‘thing to do’ of the hour. I’ve got profiles on soooo many different sites it’s ridiculous. It would take me 3 days to go through them all and update them and make a post here and there… I can tell ya this much – this shit’s gettin old. I barely even wanna be on the fuckin computer half the time. If it wasn’t for the fact that i’m physically disabled, and have so much medically wrong with me, I’d probably be outside right now, sitting on some rock watching the river go by. But, no. With a broken back and a fucked up stomach and breathing problems and more psychological problems than you could shake a DSM-V at, I gotta be sitting here, staring at an LCD screen, reading a plethora of repetitive rhetoric where only the names are changed but the drama and bullshit are still drama and bullshit, and occasionally doing my ‘walk around the apartment’ every 10 minutes or so, so my back doesn’t put me in tears. Hell, I can’t even play WoW anymore because my back has gotten so bad. Can’t just stop in the middle of a raid and say I gotta go walk around my apartment for a few minutes. Nope, doesn’t work like that.I’ve gotta be dpsing or tanking no matter what… therefore, I don’t play nearly as much. I’m lucky if I’m on there once a week… (as I do my regular ‘spider check’ to make sure none of those fuckers are on their way down from the top of my window, where between 8 and 10 a night decide they’d rather be in my apartment than outside where they belong… )
Christ I’m fucking bored. I guess it’s time to anti-anxiety med myself into a stupor. Hopefully I’ll forget how big of a clusterfuck tonight turned out to be, me sitting here waiting on a friend, removing random spiderwebs from my arm as I write another line into a blog I’ve made 3 whole posts in over the course of what, 8? 10? 12 years? As I watch the motherfucking spider that was just on that motherfucking web that was just across my motherfucking arm, speed his way across my motherfucking desk toward my motherfucking bed and my motherfucking pillows. I don’t know why I just said motherfucker so many times. It felt good, in my head, I suppose. I guess another couple of klonopin might get all the motherfuckers outta there. No, not THAT many, just my regular dosage. I’ve already done the ’25xdaily dosage’ thing late 2011, that’s recent enough. I’ll pass on 3 weeks singing kum-by-ah (or however the fuck you spell/pronounce it) and getting reminded how ‘sober is better’ and ‘reality is better’ and being forced to make them believe I’m not gonna try to off myself again when I walk outta there… that was interesting, at least… better than these motherfucking spiders and these motherfucking klonopin and these motherfucking back pains and these motherfucking motherfuckings.
Have I mentioned how much it sucks to only be able to taste food in about 3/4 of your mouth? (well, initially, anyway… the taste wanders under the plate of the upper denture eventually) If it wasn’t for the fact that I’m finally able to eat just about anything (except fruit snacks. don’t try eating fruit snacks with a partial or any kind of denture. it’s a huge fail.)
This sucks hairy goat testicles. Oh wait, I shouldn’t talk like that about ISIS’ wives, they don’t like that. Yeah… that was lame. I know. Fucking bite me if ya don’t like it. Best (or maybe worst) part of all this is that not a single motherfucking person that knows me is going to read this, like, fucking, ever. It’s just gonna sit out there on the intarwebz, taking up an infinitesimally tiny amount of space on some hard drive on some server somewhere in some server farm in some small town in the middle of mosquito-fart kansas, prbly, for like eons – or until they wipe the drive, then the mirror drive or one of the backup servers will return it to whatever drive is put back into that server on that rack in that server farm in that small town in the middle of kansas, wash, rinse, repeat. Mmm. Hershey’s Kisses are awesome. *wanders off into the intarwebz searching for another infinitesimally tiny amount of space on some hard drive on… you get the idea.