Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Monday, December 30, 2013
Back from the Dead....
well, I survived a lot of things over the last week.
1) Holiday Travel - always a pain the ass, if you ask me, and each i am dumb enough to do it again?
2) Family - I jest here of course. :)
3) Food Poisoning from La Vic.....
1) flights were fine... but there was some nervousness getting out of phx on the way home... the flight was delayed due to ball bearings. you will have that from time to time. then on way back, there is always a debate about how early I should get to the airport, especially since Indy doesn't have an express lane for first class for check in or to get through security. My brother in law refused to go above the speed limit, so, there was stress. Lots and lots of stress.
2) Family - I jest... i love my family and that is why I go throuh all non-sense to spend time with them
3) Food Poisoning from La Vic's.... yes, Rachel picked me up on Thursday at noon. We were hungry so we agreed on la vic's b/c we needed some orange sauce, b/c isn't everything in life better with La Vic's orange sauce. So we went. We bought two orange sauces for future use, starting with our meal. We ate, we felt great and I went to nap. Rachel texted me that she had barfed and I was like oh no... I never thought that it might be food poisoning, not even when i ate some pizza for dinner that night. however, when my stomach started to bark before the pizza ever arrived, I knew I might be in some trouble. However, the truth is I wanted to eat, so I did. Then I went to bed b/c I had to be at work the other day, so.... when I was up at 3:30 spraying my previous days food all over the god's earth, I should have know i was in trouble. As a matter of fact from 6 a.m. to noon, I was up every hour on the hour getting sick. I will just say getting sick. I won't go into details, but basically, if there was a way for bad gunky to get out of me over the course of that period, it found a way to get out of me. I had to call in sick to work, which was like the 2nd time in my 6 years at this godsforesaken place. i spent the rest of day getting sick and sleeping on and off. it was really one of the worst experiences in my life. I laughed, I cried, I cried, I spewed, I crapped, I snooted, I cried, and wished for death to come. It would have been better. I was unaware how much bile one can produce. I produce a lot. it was really awful. From 3:30 friday morning till pretty much the end of Saturday i was a hot mess and I have to thank Rachel for being a great roommate and being there fore me the entire way. I give her two notorious thumbs up. Thanks for the soup, the pepto, Alka-Seltzer, not letting me eat waffles, or anyting else but water, gatoraide and bread until Sunday night. Otherwise, i might still be sick. it was very, very helpful!
I know it is good to be back from the dead. I am all better now, thanks so much for asking :)
Sunday, December 29, 2013
The Guardian is Coming...
Kody looked hard at Joey. Joey turned and looked back at Kody and smiled. The smile said it. Now or Never.
Kody dropped his cigarette and gave Joey a slight nod. It meant nothing and it meant everything. Kody knew in the game that was now unfolding, it was best to keep his hand close. He walked around the dumpster. Opened the door and looked back one more time at Joey DeCarlo. Then he walked back into the station.
Joey's smile faded. He shook his head an pulled out his Camel's. He lit up as he got into the back of the car. He cracked the window and exhaled.
He stuck his cigarette back into his mouth. let go of it and punch the button on the phone. warbled rings came back from cyberspace.
The phone picked up on the other end, but there was no voice, very slight breath, but no voice.
Joey pulled his cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled smoke.
"the guardian is at the gate. I repeat, I repeat, the guardian is at the gate."
The line went dead from the other end and Joey pushed the button to make the white noise go silent.
He took another drag of his cigarette and looked out in the corn fields they drove by. Yes he said to himself "The Guardian is at the Gate."
Clipping from the Wander, Indiana Paper the Tribune:
A WALK TO REMEMBER.
By Alicia Kiely
The Tribune
Jennifer Welker, and her two young daughters Sharon (five) and Tracey (3) were walking along I-46 yesterday, much like they had every other morning over the last six months (with unemployment rates soaring in Wander, Jennifer has made the most of the recession by spending time with her children. One of the many things they have done is walk a mile and a half down I46 to the local Marathon station to visit Granny and then come back.) However, unlike any other morning Tracey, was out of her stroller and walking a few feet away from her mother, and that is when she spotted something out of the ordinary in the weeds just off 46.
"She took a few steps over towards the trees and then she came running over saying "Hay, hay, mama, hay." Hay is what she always says after mommy is done combing her hair and there are left over clumps of hair still in the brush" Jennifer explained to reporters later that afternoon. However Tracy was holding a long dark clump of hair out to her mother as she ran over.
Curious after Tracey first noticed what appeared to be additional strands of black hair in the bushes. Jennifer made Sharon hold the younger daughter just off the road and she walked over to where her daughter had wondered. That is when she too saw the hair, but unlike her daughter that is not all she saw. She then push aside the bushes and revealed a decomposing body, Jennifer, immediately ran back from to her children and covered there eyes, began to push them towards home, once back at there house, she dialed 911, and reported the body.
"It was awful, I am not sure I will ever be able to get that picture our of my head, the flies, the blood, and the stench, it was horrible it was traumatizing, I am just glad I am the one that saw it and all Tracey saw was hair, because there was so much more." Jennifer said crying as she talked with reports. "It was like rotting piece of meat, the poor dear, she was left there like a road kill, it was horrible."
Detective Kody Ransom, of the Wander Sheriff's department, was the first to respond to the call. He happened to be not to far from where the body was discovered. "I can defiantly tell you that whomever this young lady is, she suffered extraordinary pains, and malice, before her death." Ransom told reporters. "There are several marks on the neck." Ransom paused, and swallowed hard, as if he were fighting back down bile "Which appear to be bite marks on the neck, there is a lot of damage to the neck and throat area it looks as if pieces of flesh where just ripped away from the body. Upon first glance at the body, it does not show any signs of other damage. It does appear to us that there is any other damage, but we will know more after the autopsy."
Detective Ransom, as told in this column before is no stranger to murder investigations. He was a top field agent of the Violent Crimes Division of the San Francisco Office of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. However, what he saw today on Highway 46 appeared even to shake his iron belly.
The body is the subject of much speculation as well at this time. It is believed to be the body of 19 year-old Janine Vanderlock, of Wander, the daughter of the prominent restaurateur Lucas Vanderlock. Vanderlock reported his daughter to have gone missing three days ago, after a fight with her boy friend, Dean Johnson of Mulligan, IN at Vanderlock's restaurant in downtown Wander Friday night. The couple was later seen entering his apartment on Springhill and 7th Street, around 11:00 PM.
However, no one, even Johnson has seen Janine since that time. Johnson says she left in an uproar on late on Friday night after another argument. He says he assumed she took off in her car, and headed for her parents, however, Janine's Lexus is still in the parking lot of the complex, which Johnson responded that perhaps a friend picked her up. However, none of her friends have spoken with her since Friday afternoon.
Johnson has to be the police's number one suspect at this time. The Sheriff's department has confirmed that he will be questioned, however not supposedly in connection with this finding. "I will not confirm who's body we have at this time, that is for the corner to do" Ransom told reporters, "At this time we have no suspects in relation to this horrible crime, however it is true Dean Johnson has been taken into our custody for questioning. Let me stress, it is not in relation to this violent act, it is in regards to another case we are working on, which as you know I am not allowed to discuss. This act of cruelty and hate, is just another in a long line of strange events which have plagued Wander, over the last few months."
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
The day that hope died...
Wrote this the last Xmas I was in the City, probably '04? so f'ing tired... didn't sleep agian last night.. not sure what my deal is....
December 14th....
The kid sat on the flex ball and stared at the two gifts sitting on his floor. They where wrapped in a white paper. The paper was covered with pine needles and cones with little red ribbon rounding out the holiday pattern. He smiled bemusedly to himself at the jagged corners, and the wrinkles that freckled the gifts. He had wrapped them himself, spent his entire Saturday night doing it, and when he was finished wrapping the gifts there was a sense of pride that had washed over him.
However that pride was now gone, vanished in less than twelve hours. He looked at the gifts and felt ashamed. He looked at the gifts and thought about taking them back, but he had already pitched the receipts. "Idiot!" He called himself over and over. "You are so fucking stupid!" He looked away and out the window and gazed at the falling rain. He looked at the gifts and a familiar pain returned to his stomach. He wanted to be sick. He felt sick. He felt stupid. So he just kept looking at the gifts and turning his thoughts over and over in his mind, like a line chief working over a well down burger.
He thought back to earlier that morning, less than two and half hours ago to be exact, and the anxiety he felt as he approached her apartment. There last meeting had not been so pleasant. It was your typical interaction between the two. Talking, giggling, and flirting, yes there was always flirting. The kid never knew how to take that part of it. He had hoped it meant something more.
Although there had been signs that is was nothing more than harmless flirting. She had told him she was a flirt and that sometimes guys took that a little to seriously. She had canceled plans with him more than once. She only talked about herself and her world. She never emailed him unless he emailed first. She never called unless he called first and she never asked him to do anything.
There was chemistry though. Others had seen it. They had commented on how cute they where together. However that was long in the past when such comments where made, but six months later he still hung on to them. He still dreamed of being with her, of her making him happy. However, he knew he was not happy with himself and that in it self is for another time. He told people he just wanted to be friends but deep inside he wanted her. He longed for her touch, her approval, and her love.
People never understood his hang up on her, or why he could just not walk away and just be her friend. She wanted at least that, or so it had appeared. People at work and at home where sick of the constant talking of her, that was what always dominated his thoughts, his every thought bent on her, wondering when she would fall for him, wondering if she would.
The kid obsessed over her. Like some many before, he looked at the presents and hung his head in shame. He felt like he had failed himself. He felt that all of his self-growth in since leaving his homeland had been for not. He felt like the same foolish teenager that stood at Erica's locker in the ninth grade, wanting her to accept him again, like she had before, though she never would.
He hated himself for obsessing! He did! It is true; the kid hated every minute of it. He hating obsessing so much he had begun to hide himself from the world. Hiding in his room sitting at this computer typing nonsense about vampires, and aliens, and a story or two about Indiana.
But he stared at the presents, and obsessed. He stared and stared and thought about getting up but he could not. He was in a trance, dancing with this morning events. Wrestling with what his audience already knew. Things that had been becoming clear that he did not want to admit or see. That the only game being played was the one in his mind!
He practiced the conversations the whole way to her place. Going through every scenario. She had told him she had plans, although he tried not to make much of it, he could not help it. She was so vague about her plans. She was never that vague before, well not really.
Anyway, his plan "asks her if she had a good time." Then she would say yes and "I did this and he would find out she went dancing with Veronica or Fred. Blah, blah, blah…" Then his worries could be subsided and they could go back to their games and he could still hold onto that small glimmer of hope her had!
He had to act pleasant because the last time they had talked he had been such a grouch. Of course he got upset because the last meeting had not gone as he planned and as a matter of fact it went rather awful or so in his mind it did.
Still staring at the presents the kid thought about being in her driveway, listening to "In Utero" waiting for her to come out. She finally came running out and hopped in the car. He was very excited; he always was when he saw her. They exchanged morning pleasantries and he pulled off into the street, heading for the Mission.
"Do you know where you are going?" She asked.
"Sort of?" The kid replied.
"Good, because I have know idea." She replied, "Plus, I am very tired, I did not get home until 6:00 a.m."
"Wow, out till six, that must have been a great party?"
"No, not really a party, and I got home at six, I was not out till six" She replied.
"Did, you have a good time last night?" He asked as they turned onto 19th Avenue.
"It was ok. Nothing special."
Hmm, still very vague, he thought to himself. Very strange, the kid said in his head. What is going on here? Instead of retreating he pursued.
"So what did you do?" He asked again.
"I can not tell you." She said.
His heart stopped as he traveled down Nineteenth Avenue. His stomach started to feel queasy and sadness washed over him.
"What do you mean you can not tell me?" He persisted.
"I did not do anything special, just you know."
"Well you where out till six a.m. it must have been some time indeed."
"I was not out till six a.m. that is when I got home." She said again.
"And you can not tell me what you did?" The kid said as he sat behind a bus getting ready to turn down Lincoln Avenue.
"No, not really" She said again.
He was too intrigued now, he could not let this go, he had to know and he was surprised when the next words came out of his mouth as he head towards the mission on Lincoln.
"What did you have a date or something?"
"What a date, no" He was relieved, so relieved. "I do not date anymore." He was so happy now; he was all worked up over nothing, obsessing over nothing. What a fool.
Now staring at the presents he wishes she had stopped there. However she did not and she went on to say "Well not really, anyway"
Those words are what the kid was turning over and had been for the last hour as he stared at the gifts he had bought for her. As he replayed ever email message and conversation they had over the last six months. As he heard those words the game suddenly ended and he felt as if he had lost. Lost badly. He felt like an idiot, he was pissed; he was upset, he felt sick. All he could think about was those words. However there where words that disturbed him even more.
"What did you have a fling or something?" The kid asked next, still surprised he had walked this path.
"Well?" She said, "that all depends on how you define fling?"
He lost his breath, his hearted raced, and his mind had a train wreck. Did she just say that? What just happened here? This is not how the conversation was supposed to go. This was not the way he had played it out in his mind.
He stared at the presents. His mind grasped at his glimmer, and tried to hold onto the that small little amount of hope that he still had, and the illusion she could fell for him in the same way he thought he felt for her. However, with those small vague words his grip became slippery and the weight of the situation was more than he could hold onto. As he stared at the presents, and the hope became to heavy, and he let go.
The kid sat on the flex ball and stared at the two gifts sitting on his floor. They where wrapped in a white paper. The paper was covered with pine needles and cones with little red ribbon rounding out the holiday pattern. He smiled bemusedly to himself at the jagged corners, and the wrinkles that freckled the gifts. He had wrapped them himself, spent his entire Saturday night doing it, and when he was finished wrapping the gifts there was a sense of pride that had washed over him.
However that pride was now gone, vanished in less than twelve hours. He looked at the gifts and felt ashamed. He looked at the gifts and thought about taking them back, but he had already pitched the receipts. "Idiot!" He called himself over and over. "You are so fucking stupid!" He looked away and out the window and gazed at the falling rain. He looked at the gifts and a familiar pain returned to his stomach. He wanted to be sick. He felt sick. He felt stupid. So he just kept looking at the gifts and turning his thoughts over and over in his mind, like a line chief working over a well down burger.
He thought back to earlier that morning, less than two and half hours ago to be exact, and the anxiety he felt as he approached her apartment. There last meeting had not been so pleasant. It was your typical interaction between the two. Talking, giggling, and flirting, yes there was always flirting. The kid never knew how to take that part of it. He had hoped it meant something more.
Although there had been signs that is was nothing more than harmless flirting. She had told him she was a flirt and that sometimes guys took that a little to seriously. She had canceled plans with him more than once. She only talked about herself and her world. She never emailed him unless he emailed first. She never called unless he called first and she never asked him to do anything.
There was chemistry though. Others had seen it. They had commented on how cute they where together. However that was long in the past when such comments where made, but six months later he still hung on to them. He still dreamed of being with her, of her making him happy. However, he knew he was not happy with himself and that in it self is for another time. He told people he just wanted to be friends but deep inside he wanted her. He longed for her touch, her approval, and her love.
People never understood his hang up on her, or why he could just not walk away and just be her friend. She wanted at least that, or so it had appeared. People at work and at home where sick of the constant talking of her, that was what always dominated his thoughts, his every thought bent on her, wondering when she would fall for him, wondering if she would.
The kid obsessed over her. Like some many before, he looked at the presents and hung his head in shame. He felt like he had failed himself. He felt that all of his self-growth in since leaving his homeland had been for not. He felt like the same foolish teenager that stood at Erica's locker in the ninth grade, wanting her to accept him again, like she had before, though she never would.
He hated himself for obsessing! He did! It is true; the kid hated every minute of it. He hating obsessing so much he had begun to hide himself from the world. Hiding in his room sitting at this computer typing nonsense about vampires, and aliens, and a story or two about Indiana.
But he stared at the presents, and obsessed. He stared and stared and thought about getting up but he could not. He was in a trance, dancing with this morning events. Wrestling with what his audience already knew. Things that had been becoming clear that he did not want to admit or see. That the only game being played was the one in his mind!
He practiced the conversations the whole way to her place. Going through every scenario. She had told him she had plans, although he tried not to make much of it, he could not help it. She was so vague about her plans. She was never that vague before, well not really.
Anyway, his plan "asks her if she had a good time." Then she would say yes and "I did this and he would find out she went dancing with Veronica or Fred. Blah, blah, blah…" Then his worries could be subsided and they could go back to their games and he could still hold onto that small glimmer of hope her had!
He had to act pleasant because the last time they had talked he had been such a grouch. Of course he got upset because the last meeting had not gone as he planned and as a matter of fact it went rather awful or so in his mind it did.
Still staring at the presents the kid thought about being in her driveway, listening to "In Utero" waiting for her to come out. She finally came running out and hopped in the car. He was very excited; he always was when he saw her. They exchanged morning pleasantries and he pulled off into the street, heading for the Mission.
"Do you know where you are going?" She asked.
"Sort of?" The kid replied.
"Good, because I have know idea." She replied, "Plus, I am very tired, I did not get home until 6:00 a.m."
"Wow, out till six, that must have been a great party?"
"No, not really a party, and I got home at six, I was not out till six" She replied.
"Did, you have a good time last night?" He asked as they turned onto 19th Avenue.
"It was ok. Nothing special."
Hmm, still very vague, he thought to himself. Very strange, the kid said in his head. What is going on here? Instead of retreating he pursued.
"So what did you do?" He asked again.
"I can not tell you." She said.
His heart stopped as he traveled down Nineteenth Avenue. His stomach started to feel queasy and sadness washed over him.
"What do you mean you can not tell me?" He persisted.
"I did not do anything special, just you know."
"Well you where out till six a.m. it must have been some time indeed."
"I was not out till six a.m. that is when I got home." She said again.
"And you can not tell me what you did?" The kid said as he sat behind a bus getting ready to turn down Lincoln Avenue.
"No, not really" She said again.
He was too intrigued now, he could not let this go, he had to know and he was surprised when the next words came out of his mouth as he head towards the mission on Lincoln.
"What did you have a date or something?"
"What a date, no" He was relieved, so relieved. "I do not date anymore." He was so happy now; he was all worked up over nothing, obsessing over nothing. What a fool.
Now staring at the presents he wishes she had stopped there. However she did not and she went on to say "Well not really, anyway"
Those words are what the kid was turning over and had been for the last hour as he stared at the gifts he had bought for her. As he replayed ever email message and conversation they had over the last six months. As he heard those words the game suddenly ended and he felt as if he had lost. Lost badly. He felt like an idiot, he was pissed; he was upset, he felt sick. All he could think about was those words. However there where words that disturbed him even more.
"What did you have a fling or something?" The kid asked next, still surprised he had walked this path.
"Well?" She said, "that all depends on how you define fling?"
He lost his breath, his hearted raced, and his mind had a train wreck. Did she just say that? What just happened here? This is not how the conversation was supposed to go. This was not the way he had played it out in his mind.
He stared at the presents. His mind grasped at his glimmer, and tried to hold onto the that small little amount of hope that he still had, and the illusion she could fell for him in the same way he thought he felt for her. However, with those small vague words his grip became slippery and the weight of the situation was more than he could hold onto. As he stared at the presents, and the hope became to heavy, and he let go.
Monday, December 23, 2013
"the dreamer"
The Dreamer Original Draft...
He rolled out of bed and walked over to the alarm clock that was on top of his TV and hit the switch so it would not go off in at six thirty like it was suppose too. He was up a half-hour early today; he walked into the bathroom and turned on his shower. He walked back over to his nightstand and grabbed his can of Kodiak. "Ah a morning dip, perhaps that would make him feel better." He had not slept well, actually he had not slept at all. He got home from the office around two thirty and laid in bed until now. He was used to going with out sleep this time of year he almost enjoyed it. He pondered the idea of going to the gym but shrugged it off; the biceps work out he had planned for this morning would have to wait. The pinch of Kodiak he held in his lip was the final word on that. He walked over to his computer desk and flipped on the desktop. After the computer loaded he clicked on the MSN icon and walked back into the bathroom.
After his shower he grabbed his dip and added a refresher. Some how the wintergreen smell and the spitting always signaled it was time to get the day started. He sat in his black folding chair and logged into his email account, it had been ages since he had look at his hotmail. As he wondered what kind of junk mail his college buddies had sent him the screen opened up and told him he had 115 new messages. He figured now was as good as time as any to sort through them. He must have deleted fifty messages when he came to one that actually was not a joke, or a forward. He read the name of the sender, Jess Garrison, and then smiled. He wondered how long it had been since he had seen to her or talked with her? Wow he thought it must have been at least a year since he had emailed her, maybe longer. He clicked her name and a message appeared:
Brent "Bad Boy" Baldwin
Hope tax season went well, I wonder if you are as glad it is over as I am. I am so relieved. I now have some time to do some painting! I remember my first tax season talking to some kid and about his dream of being a writer, I wonder what happened to that kid? I once got this message from him:
As he stared at the blank computer screen he looked at his copy of "Cocaine Fever", he could only hope to tell a story as masterful as the one he was currently reading. He had know idea the direction the book was taking and he had know idea were he ideas were going to lead him. He knew the characters, the first a lonely dreamer, who had spent the last year of his life trying to figure out who he was, and the other a brilliant young actress that was rapidly becoming Hollywood's most bankable female star.
They had been brought up in to very different lifestyles. His up bringing was pretty normal for the Midwest, raised by his two parents from the medical profession along with his four siblings. He graduated high school popular and in the top of his class. He would go on two Indiana University and succeed in the business school. He would graduate with a high GPA and a job with the most successful accounting firm in the nation. She however was born in secret, hidden from he strung out actor of a father. Her mother a struggling actress had to raise her on her own, and even tried to live her dreams through her daughter. She pushed her daughter into acting and she landed a roll in a movie that would make her a star at the young age of six. After the quick rush of stardom she became a freak two her peers. Instead of attending grade school, she would hang out at cocaine parties with the "Brat Pack" She never finished high school and never had any desire for college. The differences in there lives were many, but they had one thing in common the past.
Their meeting would be no accident, but a twist of fate that would change there lives forever. They would find in each other one thing that they could find in no one else, understanding, and love?
That kid was some DREAMER! Hey, maybe you have heard something about him?
He rolled out of bed and walked over to the alarm clock that was on top of his TV and hit the switch so it would not go off in at six thirty like it was suppose too. He was up a half-hour early today; he walked into the bathroom and turned on his shower. He walked back over to his nightstand and grabbed his can of Kodiak. "Ah a morning dip, perhaps that would make him feel better." He had not slept well, actually he had not slept at all. He got home from the office around two thirty and laid in bed until now. He was used to going with out sleep this time of year he almost enjoyed it. He pondered the idea of going to the gym but shrugged it off; the biceps work out he had planned for this morning would have to wait. The pinch of Kodiak he held in his lip was the final word on that. He walked over to his computer desk and flipped on the desktop. After the computer loaded he clicked on the MSN icon and walked back into the bathroom.
After his shower he grabbed his dip and added a refresher. Some how the wintergreen smell and the spitting always signaled it was time to get the day started. He sat in his black folding chair and logged into his email account, it had been ages since he had look at his hotmail. As he wondered what kind of junk mail his college buddies had sent him the screen opened up and told him he had 115 new messages. He figured now was as good as time as any to sort through them. He must have deleted fifty messages when he came to one that actually was not a joke, or a forward. He read the name of the sender, Jess Garrison, and then smiled. He wondered how long it had been since he had seen to her or talked with her? Wow he thought it must have been at least a year since he had emailed her, maybe longer. He clicked her name and a message appeared:
Brent "Bad Boy" Baldwin
Hope tax season went well, I wonder if you are as glad it is over as I am. I am so relieved. I now have some time to do some painting! I remember my first tax season talking to some kid and about his dream of being a writer, I wonder what happened to that kid? I once got this message from him:
As he stared at the blank computer screen he looked at his copy of "Cocaine Fever", he could only hope to tell a story as masterful as the one he was currently reading. He had know idea the direction the book was taking and he had know idea were he ideas were going to lead him. He knew the characters, the first a lonely dreamer, who had spent the last year of his life trying to figure out who he was, and the other a brilliant young actress that was rapidly becoming Hollywood's most bankable female star.
They had been brought up in to very different lifestyles. His up bringing was pretty normal for the Midwest, raised by his two parents from the medical profession along with his four siblings. He graduated high school popular and in the top of his class. He would go on two Indiana University and succeed in the business school. He would graduate with a high GPA and a job with the most successful accounting firm in the nation. She however was born in secret, hidden from he strung out actor of a father. Her mother a struggling actress had to raise her on her own, and even tried to live her dreams through her daughter. She pushed her daughter into acting and she landed a roll in a movie that would make her a star at the young age of six. After the quick rush of stardom she became a freak two her peers. Instead of attending grade school, she would hang out at cocaine parties with the "Brat Pack" She never finished high school and never had any desire for college. The differences in there lives were many, but they had one thing in common the past.
Their meeting would be no accident, but a twist of fate that would change there lives forever. They would find in each other one thing that they could find in no one else, understanding, and love?
That kid was some DREAMER! Hey, maybe you have heard something about him?
Claire
Brent stared at the message he received and his mind began to race. He could not believe that she saved that message, how long ago had he wrote. He quickly reached into his computer drawer and pushed aside his collection of journals until he found the one he was looking for. He picked up the black three ring binders and flipped it over and began to read the cover. The white sheet of paper he had slid under the plastic cover looked brand new.
"Brent's Thoughts A look inside" he read and he flipped opened the cover and read the title page "Brent's Thoughts. Bad thoughts for bad times." How untrue those words were then but how true they were to be. He grabbed the tab that read Affection and flipped to the first page. He began to read the passage it started off As he stared at the blank computer screen he looked at his copy of "Cocaine Fever", he could only hope to tell a story as masterful as the one he was currently reading. He had know idea the direction the book was taking and he had know idea were he ideas were going to lead him. After reading the rest of the passage he looked for the date, August 4, 1999. Had it really been four years? He asked himself. He then flipped the page over and looked at the make shift outline he had made to finally write his novel Another page was turn and he began to read his work. After about ten pages he slammed the folder shut and stared at his computer screen. Shaking his head he muttered a few words to himself "Time had moved on since then" and with that he logged off his computer and returned the folder to the drawer. He chuckled to himself. He'd been such a fool back then. He really thought he could write. He really thought he had talent. "A pipe dream" he chuckled and walked to his closet and began to dress for work.
It was around seven thirty when Brent finally walked to the living room. He walked to the refrigerator and pulled out his Chocolate Chip Bagels and then poured himself a glass of Milk. He walked over to the TV and tuned into Sports center, he pondered what was going on in the world of sports, and he had not been able to watch his favorite running program since the super bowl. He missed out on all the March Madness and he frowned. As Brent started to get the run down on spring training he glanced over towards a poster hanging on the wall. It was one of his favorites. It was a UFO oscillating over a forest with the capitalized letters across the bottom that read I WANT TO BELIEVE. He leaned back in his sofa and thought about that phrase and what it meant.
He had found the poster on the Internet while he was interning for the Water Company in Bloomington. It was after his senior year in college and at the time he was pondering on what to do with his life. He parents pushed for him to continue his education in the form of law school. He however had enjoyed the summer that consisted of working. He could not decide if he wanted to go to school or go to work. He knew for sure he did not want to end up working ninety-hour weeks with nothing to show for his efforts but the materialistic object we call money. No he wanted to change the world, or at least the small portion of it that he believed he could reach.
Brent stared at the message he received and his mind began to race. He could not believe that she saved that message, how long ago had he wrote. He quickly reached into his computer drawer and pushed aside his collection of journals until he found the one he was looking for. He picked up the black three ring binders and flipped it over and began to read the cover. The white sheet of paper he had slid under the plastic cover looked brand new.
"Brent's Thoughts A look inside" he read and he flipped opened the cover and read the title page "Brent's Thoughts. Bad thoughts for bad times." How untrue those words were then but how true they were to be. He grabbed the tab that read Affection and flipped to the first page. He began to read the passage it started off As he stared at the blank computer screen he looked at his copy of "Cocaine Fever", he could only hope to tell a story as masterful as the one he was currently reading. He had know idea the direction the book was taking and he had know idea were he ideas were going to lead him. After reading the rest of the passage he looked for the date, August 4, 1999. Had it really been four years? He asked himself. He then flipped the page over and looked at the make shift outline he had made to finally write his novel Another page was turn and he began to read his work. After about ten pages he slammed the folder shut and stared at his computer screen. Shaking his head he muttered a few words to himself "Time had moved on since then" and with that he logged off his computer and returned the folder to the drawer. He chuckled to himself. He'd been such a fool back then. He really thought he could write. He really thought he had talent. "A pipe dream" he chuckled and walked to his closet and began to dress for work.
It was around seven thirty when Brent finally walked to the living room. He walked to the refrigerator and pulled out his Chocolate Chip Bagels and then poured himself a glass of Milk. He walked over to the TV and tuned into Sports center, he pondered what was going on in the world of sports, and he had not been able to watch his favorite running program since the super bowl. He missed out on all the March Madness and he frowned. As Brent started to get the run down on spring training he glanced over towards a poster hanging on the wall. It was one of his favorites. It was a UFO oscillating over a forest with the capitalized letters across the bottom that read I WANT TO BELIEVE. He leaned back in his sofa and thought about that phrase and what it meant.
He had found the poster on the Internet while he was interning for the Water Company in Bloomington. It was after his senior year in college and at the time he was pondering on what to do with his life. He parents pushed for him to continue his education in the form of law school. He however had enjoyed the summer that consisted of working. He could not decide if he wanted to go to school or go to work. He knew for sure he did not want to end up working ninety-hour weeks with nothing to show for his efforts but the materialistic object we call money. No he wanted to change the world, or at least the small portion of it that he believed he could reach.
It was when Brent truly was a dreamer. He actually had believed that he could become a writer not only to spite his parents but to follow up on a childhood dream that he could be a story teller, well not a story teller but rather The Story Teller.
I want to Believe these words once again ran
through his head as he stared at the poster trying to decide what it meant. He
of course knew the obvious answer to that question. It meant that he wanted to
believe in the existence of extraterrestrial life on other planets. That of
course was the answer and the reason he bought the poster. Not because he
believed in it, but because that is what Agent Fox Mulder believed and Fox
after all was his favorite television character. He smiled what a great show the
X-Files, but for some reason Brent knew that this poster meant more than him
than the tribute to what he felt was the greatest TV show of all time.
I want to believe ran through his head again. Did it mean he actually wanted to believe in the paranormal? That there was a greater purpose being served her on Earth than what we saw? Was it he actually wanted to believe in things like Carma, ghosts, and little green men? Perhaps, Brent mused.
I want to BELIEVE again ran through his head. Perhaps the answer was the one he had always thought it was. Perhaps the simple statement did not have anything to do with the X-Files or with ghost and aliens, but with himself? I want to believe. I want to believe in what? Brent questioned himself. The answer Brent knew, it was the answer he was always looking for, but could never get proof for. He simply wanted to believe in himself and his abilities beyond crunching numbers and sucking up to clients. He was a fine accountant but he was incomplete.
Brent had often tried to believe in himself but often fell short. He never could convince himself that he was handsome and that bad luck with girl after girl was just that bad luck and not some curse that followed him and only him around. He also could never believe that he did posses the ability to tell a story in such detail that it mattered not what the type of style he wrote it in. He felt that his former dreams were in adequate and that he had failed in making them come true. But failure always seemed to go hand in hand with any number of excuses he could formulate to why he had never finished anything he started to work on, and why he had never become the writer he desired to be. Failure, lead to excuses and excuses lead to him not believing in the one thing he wanted to the most, himself.
"So why didn't you go to the gym this morning super man?" A voice asked snapping Brent back from his self-pity.
I want to believe ran through his head again. Did it mean he actually wanted to believe in the paranormal? That there was a greater purpose being served her on Earth than what we saw? Was it he actually wanted to believe in things like Carma, ghosts, and little green men? Perhaps, Brent mused.
I want to BELIEVE again ran through his head. Perhaps the answer was the one he had always thought it was. Perhaps the simple statement did not have anything to do with the X-Files or with ghost and aliens, but with himself? I want to believe. I want to believe in what? Brent questioned himself. The answer Brent knew, it was the answer he was always looking for, but could never get proof for. He simply wanted to believe in himself and his abilities beyond crunching numbers and sucking up to clients. He was a fine accountant but he was incomplete.
Brent had often tried to believe in himself but often fell short. He never could convince himself that he was handsome and that bad luck with girl after girl was just that bad luck and not some curse that followed him and only him around. He also could never believe that he did posses the ability to tell a story in such detail that it mattered not what the type of style he wrote it in. He felt that his former dreams were in adequate and that he had failed in making them come true. But failure always seemed to go hand in hand with any number of excuses he could formulate to why he had never finished anything he started to work on, and why he had never become the writer he desired to be. Failure, lead to excuses and excuses lead to him not believing in the one thing he wanted to the most, himself.
"So why didn't you go to the gym this morning super man?" A voice asked snapping Brent back from his self-pity.
"Well, Colleen I did not sleep well and I
decided that I should take the day off."
"Well, it is the first time I have seen the
Might Brent Baldwin take the day off, you are the only person I have ever met
that has worked out religiously every morning during busy season."
"Some of us are just in better routines than other." Brent said rising off the couch to get another glass of milk.
"Some of us are just in better routines than other." Brent said rising off the couch to get another glass of milk.
"I just think some of us do not have to
prove that they can do it?"
"It is not a matter of proving anything to
any body but myself dear. I can not just quit working out because the US
government sets a fictitious date for all cooperate taxes to be turned in not
can I."
"Obviously not."
"What I was out of shape for ten years of
my life, and now that I am finally in shape what is so wrong with keeping
myself that way."
"Your just afraid of getting fat."
Brent looked at her for a second knowing that she
was right. "You remember what I looked like three years ago when we moved
in together? Should I wish to go back to looking like that?"
"Brent why are you so hard on yourself, you
looked fine back then. And now you do too but I just think you should take care
of your body for you and not because you are afraid that everyone else is going
to judge you."
Being roommates for three years gave her the
ability to read Brent like a book. He did go to the gym every morning out of
the fear of becoming heavy again. He did work hard there and sometimes wondered
why he was doing it. Why he was not content, What had his old trainer said
never get satisfied. "Colleen I weighed over three hundred pounds when we
met. I now way two-ten. I just to not want to balloon back up."
"You stress over it way to much. Anyway so
are we ridding in together today?"
"Ya, since we do not have to go out on
clients, we just have to finish up paper work and stuff."
"Well do not sound so happy that tax season
is over."
Brent shrugged his shoulders and walked to the cabinet and pulled out a breakfast bar.
"Brent you should be happy we are not going to be working all that over time for nothing now. I do not understand why you get this way every year at this time. It is time to relax and have some fun." She said pulling out her blender. "Come on tonight is margarita time." She said with a big smile.
Brent gave her a fake smile "Alright" She looked at him and decided not to press the issue. It was not worth it when he wanted to talk to her about it he would. Something was bothering him and he would come to her, he always did.
Brent shrugged his shoulders and walked to the cabinet and pulled out a breakfast bar.
"Brent you should be happy we are not going to be working all that over time for nothing now. I do not understand why you get this way every year at this time. It is time to relax and have some fun." She said pulling out her blender. "Come on tonight is margarita time." She said with a big smile.
Brent gave her a fake smile "Alright" She looked at him and decided not to press the issue. It was not worth it when he wanted to talk to her about it he would. Something was bothering him and he would come to her, he always did.
Swimming in the Haute
Swam today for an hour at the Terre Haute Y... Gonna try to get back on Xmas eve. It was tough today. I'm exhausted. I sleep like crap here. My bed room is so hot. I think I'm cracking window tonight. Had low energy in pull. Good thing tonight is carb loading and tomorrow is boob day in the pool.
Btw swimming in doors sucks. Very claustrophobic in there. Thing it was good to move!
Going out for BB's bday now :)
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Corn Field Confession: the inappropriate diaries of Billy b and His visits home...
Corn Field Confession: the inappropriate diaries of Billy b and His visits home...
I am going to share something personal here. Maybe to personal. However I can't help it. I haven't been this inspired since, well getting on the plane in Phoenix and when I wanted to beat down a little kid and his hillbilly parents.
However tonight after the Bob Burkle Motors Holliday party, which, I had to leave to early because Ding Burkle (baby brother) was being a complete panty waist and wouldn't partake in beverages. Oh I stayed out to late last night. Oh I suck. I hate having fun w my big brothers. I had an experience that changed my perception of reality as I know it.
Had a blast at brother Bob's party! Shawn ordered me the following drinks in this order. I know who ever counts there drinks is either a college freshman or a total d-bag but in this case, I just have to... We did quite the cycle:
1) Champagne of Beers - that's right the high life
2) MGD
3) Rolling Rock
4) White Russian
5) upside pineapple rum something, it was good
On the way home The Ding and I made a wrong turn and ended up in Greene County Indiana. What the fuck, I didn't even know there was a Greene county. Then back tracked bc my phone was dead and god forbid Ding ask the people in the gas station for directions. So we ended up back instead of at home forty five minutes later, we ended up back in Clay City... We debated the merits of going back to the bar and having another pineapple upside down fruity drink and decided against it. We felt it was time to go home. However little did I know what waited for me there.
We get back to Mom and Dads and surprisingly all three of the nieces at Mimi's house and the one nephew where all still awake. So, being the good uncle I am I laid down with them and had a game of the candy crush. They were wowed by my sick skill for the game and when I dropped ok them I was on level 245 they basically called me king of
Games. Hey I love being a hero to them. As they dozed off, my tummy began to rumble a bit. How could it not you read that drink line-up.
Now please understand I tell this tale not to gross you out but rather to help you appreciate a time in my life I'll never forget.
So last year the Fab Five Burkle sibling got out parents a unique gift. We got them one of those fancy self cleaning, heated and vibrating toilet seats. Ok it doesn't vibrate but it should. It was installed and I never thought about it again. Then... Remember last time I was here the day I was leaving my sister or mom said did you try it? I didn't have a clue what they meant until they reminded me about the seat. Now, why they'd do this the day I was leaving I can't say, but my chance was missed.
So when the rumbles hit today, so did that conversation about the magic toilet seat in the master bath at 7787 Sycamore Knolls Drive! I knew at that moment I had to try this thing. I had to see if all they hype was true.
So... I entered my parent room. Dad was out asleep on the couch. Mom was in Heidi's room with the kids and I crept, yes I crepted in, and surveyed this throne of the gods.
Let me tell you any toilet that has a plug in the wall, a remote control, and a special water line is pretty intimidating. Look I have been nervous to drop a deuce since, well since I can remember. I done my business the world over. You name the place and if I've been there I've probably left a piece or two of me behind. However tonight, I was scared. I actually started to back out of the bathroom and when I did I bumped into the good doctor and I turn and look at my dad and I think he saw the fear in my eyes. Because he'd been there. He knew just how intimidating this thro e could be. Fuck the iron throne, this thing was the real deal! He put his hand on my shoulder and was like go ahead son. Give it a try. I'll leave you be. He stopped on his wait out the door and said, word of advice use the butt warmer, it's a game changer for sure. He shuffled out and back to his chair. I turned back to this, this, this big ass toilet and said ok, it's time to drop the proverbial kids off at the proverbial pool!
I did as the old man had counciled. I turned on the butt warmers. It was a game changer, Especially in Indiana in the winter. I had toasty buns and it freak me out! It was fucking awesome!
I did my business and the it was time for the cleaning and well all I can say is OH MY FUCKING GOD it was fucking amazing. It was like my but hAd its own personal hot tub! The jets, the heaters, the waters, my god, I've never had such an amazing experience in my life. If heaven was on a toilet seat, then heaven might reside in Terre Haute Indiana just outside of Mom and Dads closet and just south of there tub. Seriously I've already email my roommate and told her we are investing in these. It has to be done. It's fucking amazing! Just fucking amazing! My has, my entire ass has never been so happy! The thing does everything for you and you just sit there. Fucking amazing! The only thing I could ask more from it is a good fanning and powdering. Now that would be truly other worldly.
I think sat there for another 20 minutes after I was done just getting my ass hot tubbed! It got to the point where my dad was knocking on the door telling me to stop wasting water and that he had to
Pay the god damned energy bills around here and he'd turn the breaker off if I keep using it. The strange thing is ever since the first use I find myself hanging out in mom and dad room, thinking about maybe going in for another round. I think my dad is talking to my mom about locking me out of there room... That will be a battle if they try that! I don't think I can ever go manual again! I've seen how the others live and I like it! I think Obama should scrap health care and get everyone a toilet like this... Bc it make everyone happier! I mean... Wow man. ... Just wow...
Fact or fiction it doesn't matter, I taken toilet humor an entirely new direction....
Saturday, December 21, 2013
Bad kid, called fat, and Kentucky
Kids, Fat, and Kentucky
I was a bad kid. Maybe I didn't get in trouble a lot outside of home. Yes, there was the impeachment of my 6th grade presidency, well, that's not quite correct, my government was over thrown and shut down do to a cheating scandal. I stand by sharing the answers with my best friend, I just don't stand by him sharing it with the rest of his class. My teacher was pissed. He humiliated me in front of my class. Then there were other incidents here and there nothing terrible. Never got in a fight that wasn't between the brothers. Never theived. Never got kicked out of school. Never got a detention other than for chewing gum, in jr high. Maybe there where some in grade school. I was a bitter when I was young. It's the vampire in me. I also once told the hall monitor to take her belt with the strap that went over one shoulder and was orange. What was it called? Sash? No. U get the idea. Anyway i told her to shove it up her nose. My boy Poogie even then a fine lawyer got me off the hook. Then there was the bag popping incident in the 4th grade and I got sent to the principles office. Now I still think that was unjustified, it was during a Halloween party. It's not my fault Sandy hadn't had enough coffee and cigarettes that day. Of course she let me off the hook, but my big brother bob saw me in the office and narked me out. Dick move bob that's why I'm going to drink all your booze tonight and trash you party ;-) I tease. Look I know at home I was a brat. Hell whenever I was with carol I was a brat. I know this. I said horrible things to my mom. I was the kid on the plane cursing at his parents. Man I was an awful kid. However, as bad as I was, I think I was kind at heart. I tried to be good, we all know it's just no fun. Look I wasn't terrible. But I wasn't good. What I know good or bad, my mom and dad would have beat my ass of I walked up to some stranger and I said "you are fat!" I can see it now the doc knocking me into next week with his thirty gold rings or mom carol taking off her sandal and going to town on me. They tried. Lord knows they tried to raise me right, but I've always talked like a trucker and been spoiled. The point is today and for the 3rd time this week a kid walked up to me and told me I was fat. Lets be honest, it's not a fucking secret. I am fat. Fat as the queen of sea cows. But look here you little bastards kept it to your fucking self. I know there kids and they say the darnedest things. Fuck that! gold rings rattling my dome. Flip flop imprint side if the face.
So when this little dick said it to me (and he is on my plane, and I'll beat him down if I get the chance, gorilla press him in the bulk head) says this to me, I turned to him and said "yes, yes I am, but Santa is watching and now your f...." Didn't get the rest out because he ran and hide behind his moms leg and that ugly butch had the Audacity to smile at me. Like saying its all good. Isn't my kid cute.
Thursday at the drug store it was not of the same. This family though ended up being from Kentucky and well since everyone from Kentucky thinks deliverance is a love story well what can I expect from them. Not to much. God I hate that fucking state. I might try to get a partnership going w my peeps in Tennessee and see if we can't invade Kentucky and divide it up, move the people off the land, exile them to Texas, which is almost as bad, and be done with it. Lets start over. The only good thing to
Come out of Kentucky beside bourbon and the Hill topper is my favorite stripper story. Well second favorite. The girl from Texas input thru college on my last date at netIq what was her name Sway, that's still the best I think. Maybe .. However, I am at a bachelor party for my brother Bob. I took the red eye to Indy and fuck was I tired. I can't sleep on the plane. However, I go out. I party. Me and the sage and wise Ben Laycock are having a beer and he is like Sir William let me buy you a lap dance and I'm like Sweet Sweet Dover it would be an honor. (His name is Ben, they call him Dover, get it? Bend over? Really, u suck. As they say where I grew up if the Dover is in let the party begin, but if the Dover is sober then the party be over. Honestly, Dover is a sage and wise man, and was the first person to ever really encourage me to write. He always saw potential in my stories. Love that man! Still bitter over Abby but love him none the less;) so he gets me a lap dance and this nice looking young lady is doing her job and I ask her what her name is and she says "7" and I'm sitting there thinking what a cool name and so I have to ask her where did you get that name from I asks. She says to me "it's how old my son is." Right there is all you need to know about Kentucky, and that is a great stripper story.
Now how did we get here? Oh ya kids telling me I'm fat! Well the parent should be beaten for not teaching their kids common courtesies. Anyway, we are off the ground in Phx. I have a buckeye fan sitting next to me. Think I'll ask him about Michigan State and his team choking there asses off. Anyway parents teach your kids to keep their mouthes shut and I won't go off on rants!
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