Captain’s Log Nein

Damnit, I feel pretty unoriginal now. I really need to work on not becoming my female friends’ girlfriend. I hate these “why do guys…” generalizations. You know who else does 99% of whatever you are about to say next? Women. We are equally horrible to one another.

Stop generalizing. Either look for the ones who don’t do that (they are out there) or stop looking all together. But please, for the love of God, don’t stamp The Next with the same label as your Ex. I have to stop, this is going to turn into a rant… Maybe I should make a post about it. Hmm…

In other news, love is in the air! I’ve gotten to a point where I have forgotten which flashback posts I had scheduled for this month. It’s kind of exciting, really exciting actually, rediscovering these oldies. I wish that I had the confidence to stop my stories midway through writing, pass them to someone, and ask if it’s worth finishing. I want my apartment back. No, I need my apartment back.

I’m pretty sure that one of my work buddies just got fired. It amazes me how some people talk to their bosses. You know that moment when you’re walking by someone and you can tell that they are avoiding making eye contact with you? Yeah… Fuck screw that. Guys, if you pass gas at the urinal do not look around to see if anyone heard you…

We all heard you. The last thing that I want right now is to hear you fart and then feel your eyes on the side of my face. I figured out what annoys me about our conversation. I’m randomly told the beginning of what you really want to tell me. Stop waiting for me to respond before you say what you are thinking. Just say it.

“I just went to the store”… Um, I didn’t ask, but “ok”. “Saw an old friend”, ah now I see where this is going, “cool”. “It was awkward”, why the hell couldn’t all of this fit into the original random as fuck text, stop walking me through this shit and tell me what you want to tell me. You’ve just made me lose interest in this story all together, but I have to play along, “what was awkward about it?” That moment when you go to pull out a wedgie and end up plucking a few hairs in the process.

I’m officially attached to my new unit! Finalfuckingly! I’m too excited right now to talk shit on my old unit, but I reserve the right to do so on a later date. Why does it seem like the most opinionated bloggers are the ones who don’t even have a blog? It’s weird, going to bed without saying goodnight. I’m starting to think that I’m not going to get this book finished by my deadline, I really need to hunker down here.

Even if I finish one story a day, which is really pushing it, I won’t get it done in time. It is getting increasingly more difficult to keep my mouth shut here… This is why I don’t watch the news. I feel like I’m saying “I’m sorry” in every conversation that we have. Sitting on a public bench and a smoker sits next to me… With a lit cigarette…

Fucking go somewhere! Sitting in the drive thru line and what do I hear? Gunshots. Nice! I wonder what it would be like to Police Call the moon… Do you just toss the shit up into space?

~

Until next time, be weird somewhere else.

P.S. Unfortunately I couldn’t think of a good picture to go with this post so here ya go. Every time I get a new medal I take a selfie (I hate that word almost as much as I hate taking selfies) of me with my new medal, wearing the race shirt, in front of my old medals… There’s a pretty good Bucket list story behind this one. A story that you’ll get… Eventually… Foreshadowing say what!?