When you go to jail, don’t call me for bail. (Monkeys make up 80% of the world’s monkey population.)

I feel the need to write, but I’m half scared to start because I know this one’s going to be a long one. I’m actually typing this out in Microsoft Word, so I can save it if I don’t finish it. It’s going to take me most of an hour, I’m sure, to complete. A lot of crazy things have happened since I last blogged.

I’m really a little bit nervous to share some of the things that have happened, because I’d like to remain anonymous. Some of the stupid shit that’s happened, though…if anyone reading this knew me, they’d know immediately who wrote this. This is the reason I just decided to make my blog much shorter than initially planned.

Quite awhile back I made a list of a few (out of the many) of my annoyances. Most of them are about my special lady friend. I thought of a few new ones that are creeping up on me. They irritate me so bad I want to rip my eyeballs out, and cram them in my ear holes. And they’re so petty, it’s silly. I want you all to read how petty some idiots are, though. Here goes my latest list of petty annoyances:
1.) My special lady friend has never eaten a sandwich without a humongous plate of chips along with it. I’ve literally never seen her eat a sandwich without chips. Why does this bother me? I have no idea. Part of it is probably because she eats that huge mound of chips with her goddam mouth opened.
2.) I have a shitty washer and dryer. I know this. I get tired of hearing how shitty it is every time the laundry is done. I don’t expect for them to ever start working better. If you’re having a hard time figuring out who it is that usually complains about this….well, you’re an idiot. It’s the special lady friend.
3.) If you’re hungry and getting ready to eat, finish your food before you call me on the phone.
4.) If you want to smoke while talking to me on the phone, don’t blow smoke into the damn phone.
5.) I have yet to turn on the air conditioner this year. It was 104 degrees last Monday. It won’t turn on because it’s BROKEN. A few weeks ago, the special lady friend says to me, “You need to get the air conditioner fixed.” I said, “Why? You’ll just turn it on.” Every fucking time she walks in the door, I get a weather report on the weather in my house. “It’s hot”, she says every time she comes in the house. No shit. It’s hot, and my air conditioner isn’t on.

I chatted with my high school crush on the book of faces yesterday. I hadn’t seen her since the last class reunion. At the last class reunion, she was smoking hot. Judging by the pictures on the internet, she still is. She asked, “So I suppose you’re married with kids, and all?” My response was “HELLLLLLLLNO”. She thought this was funny and lolled. She’s not married, and never had kids either. She asked why I never did it, and I told her “I don’t mind well.” She said that was part of her reason, too. She divulged that she’s a raging alcoholic…
Could I BE any more in love? Well…no, but I couldn’t be any less in love either, probably.
Anyways…I’m out.

Happy Tuesday!

- Beans

“Run your fingers through my soul. For once, just once, feel exactly what I feel, believe what I believe, perceive as I perceive, look, experience, examine, and for once; just once, understand.”

If you didn’t like the quote that’s the title of the post, here’s another: “Anyone can give up, it’s the easiest thing in the world to do. But to hold it together when everyone else would understand if you fell apart, that’s true strength.”

So what? Fuck it. I don’t have true strength. I admit it. And don’t start thinking I’m emo. I’d never color my hair black. Go ahead. Read my babbling and laugh. It’s funny.

This morning I woke up

Because that’s what you’re supposed to do.

I didn’t want to

I didn’t care if I ever opened my eyes again.

I can’t get the darkness out

Even in the middle of the desert

My mind is still black as death

Reeling, winding, spinning behind my eyes

The days of sickening blackness

Are like the peeling of an onion

They’re so thin on the outer part

As I get toward the middle, there’s more substance and stench

I need to get away from me

As irritable as I am

Nobody can annoy me like I can

I have to find my soul

How does someone’s soul escape?

Does it sneak from their ear on a Q tip?

Maybe it just bails out, during a drunken fury

It could have left because I consciously told it to go

It could be that my soul is still here

I wonder if I’ve overlooked it

Could my soul could be so seared

That the calluses have made it transparent?

I wonder if the “set it free” analogy works,

If I let it go and it doesn’t return

Was it not meant to be?

I’m not searching anymore, regardless

It can come find me.

Just listen…it’s about shame. (depression can’t have me) “Great athletes train their minds as well as their bodies.”

…might as well listen to this one too…

I would have written some funny shit, but I’ve been drinking. No funny shit for you.

The name is just a little test to see if I get many views from searches. Testing…testing…

BLAGHHHHHHH!

…just dust in the wind… or …Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that the stuff life is made of. -Benny Franklin

I guess if this blog is going to keep being updated, I’m going to have to carry the whole load. Mrs. Slocombe hasn’t given me any gossip from the library lately.

I can’t believe how fast the weeks are going by. It is blowing my mind, as I type this. Good God. It’s June already? It was Tuesday just the other day. Wait…I meant it seems like it was January just the other day. Life is flying by me, I’m not enjoying most of it, and I’m going to regret it some day. Am I too scared to live? I have a nice little job (when I say nice, I make an above average income). I have a nice little house, in a nice little town. But I don’t feel like I’m living. When every weekday is filled with so much stress and running that your anxiety is going nuts, your heart is racingyou’reshakingandeventuallylayingdownintheseat ofarentalcarinthefetalpositioncrying for no particular reason; is it worth it? I don’t know. I really don’t.

Why can’t I get a little tiny apartment in the mountains of Colorado somewhere, working as a bartender? I wonder if not having a computer or blackberry would be worth the cold. Maybe I should head south? I’ve got to find a way to enjoy these weeks that are passing as seconds.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I may be an alcoholic. I’m tired of it, but I’m so thirsty. I don’t know whether to just drink it up and enjoy it, or battle. I know it’s a battle. It’s a battle I don’t know if I’m willing to fight. It’s also something I don’t know if I can continue, due to some health conditions that have arisen.

-Beans™

David Cook, Archaleto, and Davie Crocket. I’m not racist. I just wanted to be treated with respect.

Alright…yes. I named this blog as such just to get views. It’s true. I try to cater to the readers. Or trick them into reading crap they don’t really care to read about.

Today, I drove SEVERAL hundred miles. I was tired by the time I got to the hotel.

I spent, really, very little time with my customers, and more time driving. Much more time driving.

I’m going to be totally translucent, here.

I got up this morning and took a shower. I used soap. I used a razor. I shaved my head. I shaved my nasty overgrown neck. I put on clean underwear. I brushed my teeth (I swear). I packed up my crap, and got on the road. The computer was in the passenger seat for a few miles of the way; simply because I have to check my stuff every once in awhile.

Well, I was riding down the road trying to whistle using my two forefingers, singing, and making any other noise I could imagine making. I blew air between a couple of my teeth, and breathed in at the same time (it’s not as difficult as it sounds), and my breath stunk. It stank. I smelled it. I did the cupped hand thing over the mouth and couldn’t smell anything. But when I blew through my front teeth, it smelled like bad breath.

I went to the local Target store for teeth cleaning supplies. Here’s where this little blog might get a little controversial: I’m not sure I saw a white person working at the Target store. That’s not really the controversial part. Every single one of the employees at the Target store was snotty to me. Is it because I’m white? I noticed that the vast majority of the shoppers were white. The vast majority of the employees were dark. I wonder if they treat every white colored person the way they treated me. I asked a nice young Target woman, in the most polite way I knew how, “Where are the sunglasses?” (I don’t wear expensive sunglasses, because I lose them). She pointed diagonally across the store, looked back down to what she was doing (folding a shirt) and said, “Just go straight and you’ll see them.”. Are you fucking kidding me? Go straight? Diagonally across the store? Ok. Fine. I could see where she was pointing. I found the sunglasses. I found a pair that didn’t really fit me that well. Cop sunglasses. That’s what they were, and that’s what I wanted. It’s just that they didn’t look that good on me. I’ll see what they look like when I’m in a suit or shorts and t-shirt; rather than khakis and a dress shirt.

I took my teeth cleaning supplies, gum, shaving cream, and sunglasses to the front to pay for them.

After I ran my card and the transaction went through, I said, “Thank you very much,”. Guess what she (the darker colored Target employee) said. “Uh huh,” she said. I shit you not. I said “thank you”, and she said “uh huh”. I don’t care if you’re white or black. That’s fucking rude. The bitch.

I love you, but I’ve been drinking. I have so much more in my brain to type, but can no longer continue. I’m sorry about the short blogging.

-Beans™

It looks like we made it. (barely)

Well, this past weekend, as most of you know, was memorial day. It was also my birthday yesterday. The hippy’s birthday was Sunday. We had planned MONTHS ago that we were going to go to this same little spot where we went hunting this past winter, on our birthdays. Well, we did.

We got to camp at about 2:00 pm Saturday. We decided to stay both Saturday and Sunday night. Saturday was spent mostly getting the fire ready for cooking, setting up tents, getting the two four-wheelers ready, and finally, cooking. We had steaks that were absolutely amazing. I almost cried on several occasions while eating it. We brought 6 cases of beer, and a couple of bottles of whiskey; for all 5 of us. Since we started drinking beer at about 2:00 on Saturday, by the time it was getting dark, we were hammered drunk. What should we do…what should we do??? RIDE FOUR-WHEELERS. Keep in mind that this is my second time to be in that camping spot and on those dirt roads. To get to our camping spot, it’s about 8-10 miles off of the paved road.

Well, ride four-wheelers, we certainly did. We rode them around, with the hippy as our leader. He’s the one who knew all the roads and trails. We found these 2 humongous logging tractors; and of course, tried to start them up, with no success. I ask the driver of the four-wheeler that I was on the back of if he minded if I drove. He didn’t care. We switched places, and he started screaming, “haul ass! haul ass!” Guess what we did… We hauled ass. We hauled ass until we didn’t know where in the hell we were. We decided to turn around, because we were both pretty certain that we were going to wrong direction. While turning around, I apparently hit the kill-switch. I didn’t know how to start his damn four-wheeler in the first place. Well, that night, he didn’t either. We were stuck, lost, out of beer, no weed, no water, no food……. I ask you, my friends, what would you do? Probably not what we did.

We decided to sleep. We waded off into the woods to get something to burn, and drug it back to the road. Everything we found to burn was soaking wet. We finally got a good fire started (in the middle of the dirt road), and laid down and slept (in the middle of the dirt road). We had slept, what I guess to be about an hour, when I was awakened by headlights. What in the hell were headlights doing coming down a road? Crazy idiots. I jumped up, and started trying to move the four-wheeler out of the middle of the road. After successfully moving the four-wheeler, I started to kick my friend telling him we needed to get out of the road (you’d think that would be obvious). It took 3 pretty solid kicks to get him back to life.

“We have to get out of here, man”, I tell him. So, we start walking down the road with not really any idea if we were walking in the right direction. He was tired and so was I, so we started looking for a place to sleep, that was slightly off the road. He pointed at one very nice spot, but it happened to be down lower than the road, and I was concerned that our friends wouldn’t see us if they came looking. We kept walking. We came upon another spot that was flat and close to the road (without actually being in it). So we started building a fire; with more wet burning materials. Once again, we got a fire going out of completely wet burning supplies. I’m talking about wet leaves, wet sticks, and wet logs. The only thing that saved our ass was the pack of king-sized Rizlas hidden away in my pocket. Within about 10 minutes, we had a decent fire going. I took my shirt off, and laid on it. I was awakened several times by bugs crawling on me.

We got lost at about midnight, as soon as the sun came up, we were up and walking again. We came upon 2 camps where all the campers were still asleep. The third one we came across, everyone was alive and moving around. We made some small talk, told them our embarrassing story, and asked for some help getting back to the four-wheeler. It’s a little bit hard for someone to give us advice on how to get back to our camp – WHEN WE DON’T KNOW WHERE WE WERE CAMPING!

We got back to the four-wheeler, and our nice new friends graciously showed us the kill-switch being off. Once we got the four-wheeler going, we figured out very soon where we were, and hauled ass back to camp. When we got there, of course the other friends were freaking out, and my special lady friend looked like she was going to punch me.

That is when we found out the rest of the story (what happened at camp the night we slept in the road). The other two guys on the four-wheeler got back to camp expecting us to be there. So they just waited, and started drinking whiskey and waiting. The hippy got belligerently drunk, and wanted to come find us; he was simply too fucking hammered. He and the special lady friend got into a screaming match because he accused her of not caring that we were dying out in the woods somewhere. The hippy got into his truck and started driving it away from the road, and deeper into the very thick woods. The special lady friend took the hippy’s keys away, because he got so angry, he started ramming his own truck with his four-wheeler. He got very angry about this, and again accused the others of not caring that we were dying out in the woods. Unbeknown to them, he had an extra key in his wallet.

I have no idea what else happened, but I wouldn’t trade this past weekend for anything.

I’m an idiot. We’re idiots. ….sleeping in the middle of the road….PAH!

-Beans™