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I just got the e-mail today confirming that the most expensive computer I have ever bought in my life was placed in the UPS truck yesterday and I am really excited about it. I couldn’t help it really because as I have always built my own computers from the time that Commodore {yes I am a freaking dork and I owned every Commodore computer from the Vic-20 all the way to the Amiga 3000, and only gave up the Amiga 3 years ago … bite me!} basically started going belly up, so it was about time I just went out and got the very best of something for a change. That’s my story and I am sticking to it. Who could blame me really, because as a power computer weenie this thing is supposedly indestructible? It’s called a Durabook, and it is has an aircraft steel case complete with rubberized corners, which is supposed to make it shock proof beyond 20 feet. As I am usually using the laptop on the roof when I am hiding from the kids, this is a total must! Dual core Intel Pentium, 2 gigs of RAM, 320 gig hard drive, Windows Vista, and 5 years of bumper to bumper warranty! Who’s the man now? Well ok, the story behind my purchase is a bit different then it looks from the outside, so I guess I should start from the beginning on it all and you all can see how ingenious my 2000 dollar purchase was.

I was having a hard time sleeping so I decided that the best thing to do was to watch some television and hopefully … um … find a way to burn off some energy. The best way to do this is to find some educational things to watch and that would stimulate my intellect. That would be on channel 70, 71, and 96 for those of you living in my little corner of the world, meaning HSN, QVC, and Shop NBC, for those who haven’t been following along. If those don’t work then you head for channel 8, 20, or 21 which are the Spanish channels. I didn’t have more than two channels to go until I got to channel 71, and my favorite show hostess {Mary Beth Roe} was wearing my favorite outfit, the above the knee skirt with the tan nylons and open toed shoes. They know they have my attention because they always show all of her as opposed to most of the other show hostesses, so that I can sit there and be mesmerized by the way she does the “come hither” foot bob. Now with that said, I was getting rather stimulated, and was concentrating now on the part about burning off the energy, but they had that stupid Dell loser on, and kept switching back and forth between the bobbing feet, and the dithering dork, crossed legs, geek talking about printers, calf sliding up shin, man stroking a monitor. It was getting rather pathetic in the ability to stimulate department, yummy, damn, oh yeah, shit, wooohooo, damnit! Worse than that, as a total computer dork, looking at Dell computers was making it hard to get stimulated anyway because they suck.

I finally had enough of the tease angle of the whole television stimulation experiment and got out of bed to go to the computer and download some stimulation. Opened up my Incredimail, so that I could get the password to the places that you can download my favorite forms of stimulation material, and before I could even open up my ubra private passwords folder {and yes I am so ashamed to admit this happened} there was an e-mail from Durabook opened in the new mail folder. Like one of the totally taped glasses wearing losers from “Revenge of the Nerds” I was spellbound by the beauty of the newly released Durabook. You should have seen her all glistening silver with the gorgeous black bumper material all around it. The little drool pile forming on my keyboard I had forgotten about the important things I had come to this place to download and was at the Durabook site reading about their new 2999 dollar “Military Issue” laptop. I need help I tell you!!! An hour and a half later I had read every single spec on this thing and managed to talk myself out of it based on price. Single fathers don’t buy frivolous things like that on themselves. They have to be responsible adults and use computers for what they were made for, and that means looking at porn … um … I mean … stimulation at 1am when they have to get up at 3am for work.

Well I turned the Incredimail off and walked very weakly back to my bedroom dejected because instead of looking at the toys I can’t have that I originally went there to look at I ended up looking at a different toy that I couldn’t have, and wasted valuable sleeping time. The good news out of all of this was that that geek that was wasting valuable screen space that should have been totally dedicated to Mary Beth Roe’s legs should definitely be gone by now. Turning on the television I found that her segments were over and I was about ready to cry as that man that looks like a Ken Doll was on instead. God was definitely punishing me still for that stupid plot that Cassius told me I would be a hero for, and all I had to do was stab my buddy Caesar {I’ll get him back for that one some day} many lives ago, so I clicked the channel over to 96 which usually doesn’t have skirt wearing hostesses but once in a great moon they may, and there it was! I was looking at two totally hot babes wearing incredibly short skirts, one was wearing those damn knee high leather boots but the other one had on the spaghetti strapped shoes which really get me … um … stimulated, but more importantly they were standing on each side of MY DURABOOK!

Oh they knew how to sell that thing too, as the hotter of the two brilliant young ladies would just sit there with her foot waggling selling that thing to me personally by explaining the features in great detail. “It’s really cool because when you move the pointer thingy over like this then … see … look how the start thing expands,” and oh baby does it ever, I was thinking. The other one {while scratching the side of her perfect black nylon clad knee … oh yeah attention completely glued} started talking about how it has 4 of those plug thingies that everyone uses to plug in cameras and printers and stuff, which was a brilliant observation on her behalf, as she leans over a bit to run her fingers a bit farther down her calf. What amazingly knowledgeable sales people, the stimulated side of my brain was explaining to me as I stared at the presentation. The other one again chimed in with, “and all this for only 1649 plus 29 dollars shipping and handling,” and then both of the women totally disappeared to me as I was knocking everything over on the night stand to get at the phone.

After an extended 5 year warranty for another 299 dollars I was out almost two grand but it was probably the best sex I had ever had in my life! Um … I mean … I had … Um … purchased my dream laptop at a huge discount over what it would have cost me sitting at the computer. Yeah that works, but the most important thing about all of this was that I had bought this computer and gotten the television off and was asleep before these two excellent sales professionals had sold me the NASCAR collectibles that they were going to be going to next. Since I never spend money on myself realistically as pay day almost inevitably means having to come home with groceries and money to simply throw it all on the floor so they can all wrestle each other for it, I was owed. This goes beyond the usual feeling of being owed while the wild animals are fighting for all of the food and money on the floor and I am sneaking downstairs to start writing or playing on CherryTAP. With that said I only hope that my Cyber Dad wasn’t having insomnia the other night too, when they went to the NASCAR stuff, or my Cyber Mom will be reading this and saying “Hey Don? Where did you say you bought all these Tony Stewart things again?” ;8o)

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Before I begin, let me just say that this is going to be long and more boring than usual. If you have a very low tolerance for the inane, then I suggest you move on to something more exciting. I am not in a good mood, and I really cease to amaze myself today. I also happen to find my own personal self discovery that I am always striving for to be a bit dated and tired, but I have taken to picking apart a few other inventories these days, and have been an unwilling hostage to them for a very long time now, in the grand scale of things. Before you read any further, please note that there are no apologies to be handed out, no kudos to be acknowledged, and I am for the most part just blathering and then posting for the sake of having something posted.

If I were to go back to July 15 of 2005, I would simply remember that I was at the end of a rotten relationship, and finding myself in a position of vulnerability, and in need of attention, when I wrote the first blog that I ever wrote. It wasn’t exactly popular, but it made a stir in the chat rooms that I hung out in on Yahole, because the women that I had mentioned in it were not happy with some things that I said. Most of the people that had then run off to read it {as it sat in the new Yahole 360 hell format that I had volunteered to try out} found it to be rather bland, and I think it was rather bland too. Having a bunch of pissy women running around like lunatics, forced me to write my second blog “Things You Learn with a Bad Back” to simply get that other blog off of my front page because you couldn’t delete them at the time. I reverted to my passive aggressive form of humor to cover up how uncomfortable I was being the topic of chat room drama, and the blog itself became really popular very quickly from that point forward. There’s a few people reading this that have heard that before, but here’s the rub, where I point out that it takes daily vigilance to be that sort of a person.

I’ve spelled it out a lot that I am not a happy person, and for the most part, I went from scared, to angry, to bitter, to hateful, and that was how I started my adult life. Mental hospitals, rehabs, pills, suicide attempts, and then later on divorces, children, and a huge garbage pile of regrets led me to a place called apathy with a silver lining. Through my own eyes, and the power of my keyboard I have tried to hash out what I want to be and how I want to conduct myself while examining my innards openly for a year and a half now and it has been a most fascinating roller coaster that probably would have killed me 10 years ago. I watched myself grow to become the first 360 icon, just to watch it get torn down by all of the detractors that said I wouldn’t make it if I lost all of that and they were wrong. I am sitting here right now still rather proud of what little I had accomplished and how bright that fire burned me out, and that’s actually pretty sad. I watched it all disintegrate because of three things that are still following me no matter where I go, and the first and foremost is myself {because I do tend to have to go where I am} the second is {or was} my fans, and last was the people who carry pitchforks with their torches, for whatever reason they may have.

My problem now is that I have finally realized a few things that were very hard to admit back in the Yahole days, and with my change in attitude over the years, it still bites me in the ass, that some people will never change. I have a hard enough time changing myself, much less having faith in the entire human race as a whole, so it is pretty sad that I still fall into the ruts that I have over the years that some people can be helped. The part of it all that is the worst is that deep down inside I still actually have to work at being a nice person, and really just wish everyone on the planet would die except 1 blond, 1 brunette, and 1 redhead, all with perfect bodies and the entire Victoria’s Secret Collection at their disposal, to go with their raging sexual appetites. Deep down inside I still feel that I could fuck that up if given half a chance. You see it all started with a woman, as it would be labeled in the first Spiderman movie, as it always does with the ruination of “the nice guy” which I have worked pretty hard to be over the years, and upon meeting her and falling in love with her my entire life started flushing down the toilet. At least that is what it looks like through the eyes of a writer like myself when in reality it all has to do with my twisted sense of loyalty, intermixed with my denial of how human beings truly work {as in I am not the only one that hates everyone and has to work on being better than that I just have to realize that sometimes in certain situations I am THE ONLY one actively working on that} along with my innate need to give everyone the benefit of the doubt. Welcome to the Monorail that takes you off of the Island of Disney Jeremy, there are some people in this world that are just shit!

Now this woman whom I was in love with for well over a year, I truly believe is a good person, and actually clung on to what was left of a rather good friendship at times, despite the fact that the people that she brings to the table are simply rotten to the core. My mind simply wants to do the algebraic equations that will disprove the theories that you can’t judge a person by the company they keep, but here I am to actually say that YOU CAN find misery in the misery of others, and being a manic person I do tend to love to suck the misery out of those around me so that I can wallow in it for them. This is not a great way to live your life and I am simply ripping myself from the cocoon of being immersed in other people’s shit for so long that I had truly convinced myself that it was my own, and I can’t even begin to tell you the panic attacks that it has been giving me the last few days. I watched a couple of people that I thought I could “save” totally rip my own little world apart a year ago and cast me out of my fun little Yahole world, the whole time assuming that I was a better person for fighting it all, and what I was was a total idiot. I am watching the cancer of bad decisions {3 parts mine, 3 parts another, 3 parts shit, blend … drink} coming after me now, and insanity isn’t even the word for it as again I am at a cross roads of “does the shit that others attract, need to effect me?” and the answer is no.

What really kills me in all of this is that I have actually written it out, very eloquently, and often to much herald how the Invidia, in others will destroy everything around you, and I missed a very important key factor in all of it that I should have seen before, as it is staring me dead in the face right now. There are some objects of irrational lust, and wanton need to others that are not worth salvaging. The incidents that took place when a very insane man took on different identities all over Yahole to get me, and all of my friends, and the friends of the woman that at the time I had fallen so madly in love with that I couldn’t even rationalize that my want to save that scumbag was pointless, scares me so bad to this day. In the same sense the very same woman, the very same instances, and a different insanely jealous, hateful lunatic arises and the only thing I can think to do in it all is run and hide, because I just don’t want to deal with it anymore. There was a pivotal moment in all of this as I realized that it isn’t entirely in the minds of the kooks as their only link to me is still the same thing it was back then, and as always my mind battles over whether the person is worth the baggage that she carries. Here’s where my deadly sin really comes in as the Ira builds to the point of being equally as irrational, and I just want to do my “bull in the china shop” impersonation.

Just want to warn both of the people who probably made it this far in this that I am not even close to over so if you chose to step away from the blog slowly now, I would definitely understand, because this is where I go back to my old behaviors and try to see how they might have been there for a reason. As we all know human beings like all animals are set up with a certain set of instincts. Mine tend to be off kilter because I like to believe that I have personally evolved out of a lot of them and perhaps that is my downfall after all. If we were to go back about 20 years this all would have been solved rather easily by my getting totally plastered and then arrested for trying to kill someone. Now we all know that that is no way to spend a weekend but inevitably {whether sane or not} the person or persons that had assisted {3 parts this … 3 parts that … stir … drink} in bringing me to this state usually avoids me outright from that point forward. This is misplaced but rather effective instinctual natures to alleviate stress, if you look at it in the positive light that I try to portray the average cock sucking ass hole that I have given “benefits of doubt” to in the past, if you apply a bit of sick and twisted logic to it. Realistically speaking nobody wants to see life go back to the days of pistols on the lawn or a gun in the back like we were still in Lexington Green or Deadwood respectively, but perhaps simply saying “Get the FUCK away from me {insert name or colorful adjective here}” works a lot better than applying a “Please leave me alone” as unfortunately there are always going to be the spare totally beneath redemption asshole that is only going to understand their own language. For me to think that my dog understands more than perhaps “Tommy” at best makes ME an idiot.

As I have been reposting all of my old blogs on CherryTAP I have noticed that a few things have remained a constant in all of this, and I have to stop two cycles that will kill me sooner or later if I allow them to. The first being that I have to admit that people are going to get jealous of me either for my talent, my popularity, or simply because they are incensed by who is paying attention to me, and I shouldn’t have to apologize or try to make those people feel better anymore. The second and more importantly, I have to get back to being the flagrantly honest person that isn’t afraid of hurting people’s “feelings” anymore, or simply thinking that some people have a chance to understand things that genetically they may never. Some people actually are losers because of how they are and I am not going to fix them, and I should stop treating the 99.9 percent of the people I come in contact with as “potentially dangerous” because of the .1 percent that is. I should just label them as dangerous, and move on. If that means that I have to cut ties with those that like to bring losers around to destroy everything around me, then so be it, those decisions are best left up to those that should know better to begin with. If I have to tell someone to “Fuck themselves” because “Please’s” and “Thank You’s” don’t work then it may be a little bit of the “old school” instincts that I was born with to protect myself as opposed to the “old Jeremy” that I have so desperately tried to eliminate, most likely at the expense of my own sanity.

Then again as I emote all of this old shit and garbage that infests me, the fear of it all is still there. The people who will label me as having too much drama, the ones that will want to grab hold of me and tell me that everything will be all right, and those that think I deserve this for whatever catty ass reason they have, practically makes me want to hit the delete key right now because my own fragility in it all remains. At the same time I have to remember that I am a human being and not a human doing, and this is MY blog, and I should write about whatever the hell I want. I can handle anything that is thrown at me as long as it isn’t based on Invidia, and made to inspire Ira, because if someone is simply out there to get Ira out of me these days, I have it, and may be proud once more to use it, and for all those haters out there might know it may be ten times worse sober ;8o)

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The hallowed hallways of the Headquarters that houses the most fiendish evil known to the people of Megalopolis {aside from the Terrorist Organization Known as the Evils’s and Mophaka Al Queholic} or in more laymen’s terms, The Pink Mafia, today is a twitter with the sounds of the singing of a true classic! Yes it is time boy’s and girls for everyone’s favorite super villain turned super hero, Superdaddyman to take on a Monday at the PMHQ in typical fashion as he tries to ignore the inevitable disaster that always awaits him on a Monday morning. “We're leaving together, ... But still it's farewell ... And maybe we'll come back, ... To earth, who can tell? ... I guess there is no one to blame ... We're leaving ground ... Will things ever be the same again? ... It's the final countdown...” which was promptly followed by the “dededeelooo deedeedeedeeedoooo … deeedeedeeedooo deeedeedeeedeeedeedeedooo deedeeloooodeedee dooodoodoodoodooodooo” that you have to do when singing gay 80’s glam rock, even if it is with a sexy Tim Curry like Tenor as the Superdaddyman sports.

Now this is of course one of the Superdaddyman’s most favored songs to inflict upon the Pink Mafia, as the song itself spreads faster than cancer in a smoker! I bet that most of you are already furious as you now find yourselves humming the ridiculously 80’s power glam classic, but as you read further, the Superdaddyman will demonstrate the methadone involved with removing this song from your brain, but not right now as it doesn’t fit into the story line now. As the place was totally trashed, the Superdaddyman looked upon everyone he passed with scorn, as he followed around the ones that he knew were particularly more messy than the other ones {based on slop signatures that he has managed to recognize over the years} just to make sure that “We're heading for Venus and still we stand tall .. Cause maybe they've seen us and welcome us all .. With so many light years to go and things to be found .. I'm sure that we'll all miss her so” didn’t leave their smaller than normal brains for the rest of the day!

Now in the grander scale of things, it could have been worse. Despite all of the debris on the floors {toilet paper, toilet seat covers, newspapers, food, paper towels, etc etc etc} it could have all been wet to boot, and on this rare day it at least was all dry and didn’t require a scraper to get it up. This still was about 20 times messier that then normal human beings need to be unsupervised for two days, but it does denote progress. “Will you stop singing that f*cking song!” was the words that came belching out of Lord Paco Taco, as the Superdaddyman was taking extra long to clean his office and working on his pitch and tome as he was singing, “I guess there is no one to blame ... We're leaving ground ... Will things ever be the same again? ... It's the final countdown...” and of course the “dededeelooo deedeedeedeeedoooo … deeedeedeeedooo deeedeedeeedeeedeedeedooo deedeeloooodeedee dooodoodoodoodooodooo” followed behind each time. This poor little man has no sense of culture after all, and as they always taught me in school, those that do not understand history are doomed to repeat it, and the unspeakable terror of having the second coming of the band Europe is enough to make the Superdaddyman desperate to keep history safe!

After infesting both of the people that work at the lines with the “Europe Plague” and getting several cheers from the adoring fans of the Caped Pervader like “You F*ckin Suck!” and “Get The F*CK away from me!!” and “Oh God you are going to make me strait!” {yeah the old lesbian Capo that gets hot for Tenor voices is on this crew} our favorite Superhero goes about the duties of finishing off the cleaning process. The only trick now realistically is the eradication of “The Final Countdown” from the intense mind of the Superdaddyman himself, which is actually very easy. This form of Methadone treatments is a one step jump, that the Superdaddyman has only shared with his most trusted confidants {meaning you guys} as the trick is to get to Judas Priest! Now the queer as all hell keyboards in The Final Countdown does match up well with “Out In The Cold” and if you can easily convert that into “Living After Midnight” or “A Touch Of Evil” you should get rid of the song and be able to get back to import things like being fixated on miniskirts and stuff. Should you fail and have the song turn towards “Turbo Lover” or that gay version of “Johnny B Good” you may be in for a rough night. This is not always for the faint of heart so you may want to leave it to the professional Mental Masturbators like the Superdaddyman. Um … On second thought you may want to wait until he gets “You wont hear me, but you’ll feel me .. Without warning, something’s dawning, listen. .. Then within your senses, .. You’ll know you’re defenseless .. How your heart beats, when you run for cover .. Your cant retreat I spy like no other. .. Then we race together. we can ride forever .. Wrapped in horsepower, driving into fury .. Changing gear I pull you tighter to me .. I’m your turbo lover .. Tell me there’s no other .. Im your turbo lover .. Better run for cover” out of his f*cking head! ;8o)

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So it was an interesting day already before Superdaddyman even donned the Cape and Cowl to try to take the unwilling hostages from TOKE {The Terrorist Organization Known as the Evils’s} to the usual Sunday Deprogramming Center {Church} where we shall just says, that their souls might be saved. The diabolical Captain ADHD has already made his attempt to seize control of the Superdaddymobile, by using his infinite powers of persuasion {whining like a 2 year old girl} to change the course of the mission. The fiendish Imtoocutus has already interjected her form of madness {as in hasn’t shut up since 5am} to wreak havoc, and the outlandish Lazius Boycrazius has already gotten herself ready for her mission once inside {raiding the snack bar} and you can see that carnal look in her eyes from it. This is a normal Sunday morning for the Caped Pervader, as he desperately tries to look at the bright side {lots of women in dresses to gawk at} as he sails the Superdaddymobile across the River Styx, and safely merge into his own redemption at Church, kicking and screaming of course himself, mind you.

Now the morning had already started off badly as he has realized that one of the few people he really had wished to leave behind in the old Yahole days, is rearing her ugly {well actually attractive but still a flaming bitch} head to start trying to make his life miserable in the new homeland. Despite his urgings that she simply admit that she is a lesbian and go on with her life, this evil freak being of absolutely no happiness whatsoever has decided to interject her own brand of evil upon our favorite Super Hero once again. Fortunately CherryTAP comes equipped with something that Yahole did not at the time called a “Block This User” switch to which the Superdaddyman applied with much bravado! Yahole not only made it so that you could not block certain individuals, but would then let them send obscene amounts of complaints against you until you had your profile erased, and the Superdaddyman for the time being does not fear that anymore! Factually speaking he really just doesn’t care anymore, but will still be on the lookout for whatever other crap the Kunt From Kansas {KFK … Note from the Author; If you know me then you know that I don’t use that word even if misspelled … If you know her then you will be surprised it took me so long}, tries to pull in the near future.

Back to the task at hand as the Superdaddyman brings the prisoners from within the confines of the Superdaddyman to inside of the big white building that they will try to take over very soon. Trust us on that one. The line on the way in of all of the “Special People” who shake your hands and try to make you feel welcome yet kind of give you the creeps, was all looking at the diabolical Captain ADHD with trepidation. This is a normal occurrence as they never quite know what he is bringing to the table, and realistically even Superdaddyman has given up on trying to figure out where he hides things to sneak into Church. The lady at the end is the hello that Superdaddyman was looking forward to as he has never seen her in a skirt that went half way to her knees much less below it, and she didn’t disappoint today either. The worst part about it is that she always catches the Superdaddyman “checking out the scenery” and LOVES IT, so we assume that she has one of THOSE types of marriages as we have never seen her husband here before either. The diamonds on her fingers shows the keen eye of the Superdaddyman that she carries around more value than Superdaddyman leaves at home.

Upon waking up from his best friend’s wife slapping him {probably drooled on her shoulder again} the Superdaddyman looked up to see that Captain ADHD’s number was not flashing on the “Get Your Little Bastard” alert system, and he was rather disappointed that he didn’t get them thrown out of Church still, but the good news is that the service was over. The people were all rising for the final attempt to destroy any hearing that the Superdaddyman had left as they tortured some poor song from the book of verses. {Mental Note – Rich white people can NOT sing} Without batting an eye Lazius Boycrazius started her “trample” to get at the goodies table, filled with more chocolate than she can even handle {of course if you threw in one of her friends the table would be eaten too} and the Superdaddyman tried to follow behind her as the “single mommies” all kept grabbing a hold of him to see how he is doing. It kinda makes you want to just say “I think it’s pretty obvious, have you not noticed how grey my beard is getting?” and hope that they take the hint, but that isn’t a wise idea as nothing gets these women hotter than seeing the Superdaddyman look like a knucklehead parent. Again the fascination of a man with 3 disturbed little lunatics screaming around him in circles being a turn on, escapes us!

Yes it actually did take the help of Captain ADHD and Imtoocutus, for the Superdaddyman to drag Lazius Boycrazius from the snack bar and you could still see her flailing wildly to grab at more treats as they did it. Did I mention that she is having a visit from her monthly “friend” in all of this? Sorry if that wasn’t made obvious enough, but rest assured there should be stories of Superdaddyman pulling rather disgusting things out of the washing machine later this week. It’s his early warning system anyway, because many years of talks will not change the “Lazius Boycrazius” from what her name implies. On the long slow sail across the River Styx once again, there is a pit stop at the refueling station for the Superdaddyman {Dunkin Donuts} which brings out a flurry of “can I have? … can I have?” which did force the Superdaddyman to point out to the big one that she still have 7 cupcakes and 9 rice crispies treats in her hands as she is begging for a coolatta! This of course starts the tears rolling because the Superdaddyman just doesn’t understand which he does now because she got her stupid coolatta, which meant that with the two hot chocolates and box of munchkins it was a 20 dollar trip! This too shall pass, and so will the sanity of our favorite Super Villain turned Super Hero. At the very least it has calmed him down enough to not go 1 the ever loving shit out of KFK’s page and photos ;8o)

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At best, I can usually be thought of as the “perfect asshole” if I try hard enough and lord knows aside from that there is hardly anything in this world that I do perfectly. Some would even argue that I screw that up a lot of the time, while others would vehemently defend my abilities at being the perfect asshole. I really love CherryTAP because of all of the people watching you can do from afar. Everyone has a story and if they make the first paragraph interesting enough then I usually try to read the whole book. Many try to hard, and others don’t try hard enough to get the attention of others and I think that I actually try to read both of these types if I possibly can. In little shout box conversations I’ve had many amusing revelations about the different types of CherryTAP users, and started noticing them more as I started compiling my A List, so in typical Crow form I am going to emote about some of them. If anything I say offends you then please feel free to stop reading, or heaven forbid, change the behaviors so that we won’t pick on you off to the side.

As a man, the first thing I noticed when I joined CT was that there are a lot of women out there willing to bear their goodies for me. The fact of the matter is that there are VERY few women who’s goodies I have taken advantage of looking at, for a host of reasons. First and foremost of the reasons being that my kids are usually running around behind me as I am doing most of my CT stuff. Looking at the “goodies” are not really a great idea during these times so most people will find that I usually am more prone to rate and comment on the pictures of people’s children where I can actually include the kids in on these things. Secondly I have found that a good deal of the women showing the “goodies” are usually the one’s who get by on showing the “goodies” which basically mean, they have no other use. The few of you that have had your goodies rated and commented on by me it is actually more because you have a use, and they are part of the whole you. The opposite of this are the people who pretty much pop into pages and simply expect everyone to fawn all over them and their goodies, never to be heard from again, which reminds me of the old saying “You order shit, you eat shit” and I never could get into the taste of shit, although have been known to eat a lot of shit in my 36 years.

I then started noticing the people who like to place captions on their photos. Trust me it makes it a lot more fun to go through all of them if you have a bit of a story line. The people who can make a joke out of it all will usually find that I like to play along. Those that like to place particularly embarrassing photos of themselves or their children up {and better yet caption them} almost always end up being the best people to hang out with on CT. Don’t get me wrong, I want to rate everything on CT sooner or later as it is my higher calling, but the more fun I have going through the gallery the more I will rate, it’s just the results of dealing with a man that has ADHD. Intermixing all of your private stuff in with your non private stuff will result in a hell of a lot less rates because getting that “You suck you can’t see this picture” sign usually means … next profile to me. I tried once doing the “Back … Back to Gallery … Next” thing with a few galleries and then said to myself “Self? Is this person going to ever even care if she/ he was rated by you?” and the answer is usually no. I am extremely loyal though, and desperately try to keep all friends properly rated at all times, and appreciate it when I get the new “fried such and such has updated their photos” because it usually reminds me to go catch up {so damnit make sure you all post at least one photo a day … LOL} when I see it.

Then you have the “Fan Me Rate Me” types, OH MY WORD, show some self respect you prostitutes! I swear I have more fun with people who have “Fan me Before you Rate me” or some other sort of nonsense in their names. It ranks right up there with those that make it a point to remind everyone that they will “Tag You Back” or whatever kind of nonsense that I see in profiles and blasts, and YES I am a points whore, but I go about it the old fashioned way by sharing shit, and going out and meeting people. I have found in most of the circumstances of those that “Tag You Back” that they LIE … Go figure. I live off of the fact that I am a Rock Star every bit as much for going and getting my own damn points as getting people to come and give me points. Those that don’t just go out and raid photo galleries and “Master Rate” as Landry would say, are missing out on everything. I can’t even tell you how hilarious it has been to me {as a master of cut, paste, crop, and add effects artistry} to see all of the fake salutes that the CT Bouncers certified! Yes I do go strait to the shout box and get everyone to go look at them, and we all have a wonderful chuckle about them. I’ve been banned from commenting on a few people because I like to leave comments explaining the techniques that were used {Muahahahahahaha} but as I have said before CT is all about amusing ME!

I have to give the biggest props to the guys that are willing to go through other men’s pictures and rate and comment though. Facts are facts, but for all the shit I give women about being catty {and most of you are so don’t start} most men are ferociously homophobic or simply too “visually impaired” to lower themselves to rating or even dealing with other guys online. Women have no problem doing these things like rating and commenting on other women unless they are ubra-bitches then it’s a good thing they avoid you anyway. Most men want to look at some cootch and pray that the cootch will start chatting them up, so when a guy doesn’t disrespect other guys they are cool, and if they have a lot of cool photos to go through then they are even more cool. Just my opinion, but it’s also why you will see me speak highly of the men that I am friends with on CT too.

Last and certainly not least you have the writers out there. Most people don’t realize that displaying your writing abilities on CT is extremely under rated. You don’t get points for anything that involves a MUMM or a Blog, but there are some of us that take it extremely seriously. It’s the other window to whom we are, and who takes themselves and their friends seriously. I try very hard to read everything that my friends do and I always regard people a bit higher if they do the same for me. That’s just what it is all about when the day is over. Points are a lot of fun, and we all want to be popular {yes even you Lady Vic} but the true relationships I have formed are going to be with those that have allowed me to get to know them without getting anything out of it other than friendship, and if my brain is functioning, a little advice, laughs, or sympathy when needed. It’s also a way to make sure that only those that care are actually involved too. If we were all just point whores we could put our blogs and our MUMMs in our stash and rack up ubra points but I have to give credit to one of my friends here on CT that puts all of her Blogthings in her blog. When I pointed out to her that she could put them in her stash and get some points she reminded me that she does them for herself, which reminded me that that’s why I do this too ;8o)

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I often find myself in situations that are uncomfortable as it pertains to my children because I am after all a single father, with very limited verbal skills, despite my ability to write things. I have no problem admitting that I am a self righteous ass, but other people’s irresponsibility, forcing me to have uncomfortable talks with my children about things really pisses me off. It’s been a really rough few weeks and it actually looked like it was drawing down towards being a bit more manageable as I left the Psychiatrists office with my two youngest evils’s and went to pick up my oldest evils’s from her “Big Sister” duties across town. We were driving along talking amongst ourselves when my son out of the blue says “Dad, what’s a blowjob?” which was {surprise surprise} met with giggles and sniggers from the oldest child. The gas guzzling Dodge Dakota, with a woman older than myself loaded with children had a large bumper in the back window {eye level} saying “Will someone give Bush a blowjob so that we can impeach him?”

Now keeping in mind that the sniggering and the laughing from the 14 year old, now has the 8 year old realizing that he has an audience, so he is repeating the word “blowjob” over and over again. I passed the Durango, and was still making my way homeward when the vehicle pulled right up beside me again so that the woman could stare at me, most likely because she saw the “W04” sticker in my back window. Any series of slowing down or speeding up had this woman matching my speed, and my son in the backseat saying “blowjob” over and over again thanks to her wonderful bumper sticker. Now keeping in mind that I analyze every aspect of my life and always remember it later for prosperity and the ability to write about it, I actually know all of the hateful things I wanted to do to this woman, and was tempted to act them all out, but I didn’t. When I finally did get to the road where I could make my left turn she did slow down but finally just drove off. Keeping in mind that I was about to get out of the minivan and smash her windshield with my fist if she had actually stopped next to me. I am human after all.

Here’s the problem with this whole scenario, as I see it and I know that a lot of people have their opinions on these things, and fortunately you all have me here to tell you that you are WRONG! Most people in this world don’t have the capacity to listen to the things that they don’t want to hear and unfortunately it is ruining the world. Reminds me of my first wife who had learned as a child that when you fart it’s because your body is creating enzymes to pack your poop {I am not shitting you, pardon the pun} and despite my degree in nutritional science, I couldn’t convince her that it made her an idiot to keep repeating this gem all the time. She would flip out on anyone that passed gas, while explaining this to them. It is one of the things that were ingrained into her, and she is going to die with this tidbit of knowledge and force everyone to listen to it for many years to come. There are several things to be learned here from the events that happened on Route 1 the other day, but the first of which being that it is possible for idiocy to breed hatred, and I can barely take it any more. Freedom of speech is no excuse for bad behavior and idiocy, I’m sorry to say.

I’m sure that poor woman really believes that Clinton was persecuted for getting a blowjob, and she also believes that displaying words like “blowjob” proudly on her vehicle is an ok behavior, and she probably believes that the very sight of a “W04” sticker makes me evil. I am sure that I am never going to convince anyone of these things, and that feeling of hopelessness eats at people like me. In less than 2 years she will be rid of my president, and she will still be a very shallow, and miserable person who doesn’t care about how she effects others as long as she has her say. She will find someone else to hate and blame every misery that she claims on, and I should simply be happy that it might not be me, but you never know. That’s fine, because she is her own punishment, and I have seen these scenarios before, as her own children will become worse than her {in one direction or the other} but I still have the right to be angry as I am trying to explain away the word “blowjob” to my 8 year old son. She’s already spent most of her time explaining the expression W02 to her children I am sure, so it is NOT a fair trade. The fact that people still look at the violation of a woman’s right to a fair trial, and more over the systematic destruction of her at every level of the media, by the President of the United States, and his wife, is what scares me.

The whole argument of “what did it hurt, it was just a blowjob?” has collapsed our society a lot more than anyone on that side of the argument will ever see, because realistically, they all support the bad behavior. They all went through the history books and did whatever possible to make a mockery of this country's forefathers to explain away the fact that that man was a scumbag {when in reality just owning up to being a scumbag would have ended the argument} and NO I WOULDN'T perjure myself over a blowjob so don't say we all would. I have finally come to the conclusion as I am watching the whole bullshit lawsuit that has been going on for over a year down in North Carolina. Mike Nifong {who better end up in prison for this, or the world is doomed} crippled an entire University, and has ruined the lives of 5 young men purely based on their status. That rape case down there has been the exact opposite of what had happened in the case of Bill Clinton, in the sense that the evidence was overwhelmingly there to clear the accused, but was hidden by Mike Nifong. The class envy involved made it all ok, when in reality we should have learned a valuable lesson from all of this {don't hire hookers to dance at a party, or at the very least don't hang out at parties with hookers dancing at them and you won't have to deal with this shit in the first place} instead of "right or wrong" behavior, and the justification of it. He became the exact opposite, while being in the position of power he was using that to victimize the innocent, as opposed to using it to get away with violating the Bill of Rights. Cheerleaders wanting to get those students, just for being rich and white were every bit as much at fault as those that wanted to get Clinton off {damn another pun} for being Pro Choice and a Democrat. None of the actual legal issues, ramifications, or out and out corruption, ever get brought up, it’s just “blowjobs” and rich white people.

I guess now that I have pissed off half of the people reading this I might as well add {now that we are blessed to have the smartest woman that ever lived ramping up for her presidential run} that a vote for Hillary is another vote for polarization. I am not ready to accept {after 6 and a half years of mind numbing Bush Hating} that Hillary Clinton is the answer to the people who just want to stop the hate. It isn’t even acceptable to me, based on the argument that the people that will support her are proving me right. Anyone who would drive around with “Will someone give Bush a blowjob so that we can impeach him?” and start getting aggressive with a man who was in a mental hospital 3 times in his life, is completely un-teachable anyway. The only choice I will have unfortunately is to stop being above the fray, and that is what worries me, seeing that there is at this time at least a class of people that try to be above it all, that that option is being removed from the table. Politics is hatred now, and it doesn’t matter who is being destroyed as long as the person who says what you want to hear has the power. I am not particularly thrilled with the man represented in the “W04” bumper sticker that almost created a fight on the side of the road the other day, but believing that the woman who accepts her husband humiliating her in public for the last 2 decades just to get the power, is the answer shows that there’s enough “full of shit” to go around. ;8o)

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I realize that it would be easy to say that there is nothing worse than being a single parent that is really sick, but I would like to have the opportunity to prove it to all of you, if I can have a moment. Aside from the obvious ramifications of attempting to nurse yourself back to health, with the three little a-holes running around full of energy because they feel great {now that you are done nursing them back to health from the obvious malady they brought home from school} and just want to show the world! I happen to have a really old a-hole also limping around the house rather jealous that sick little old me hasn’t got the energy to take care of her from the various cases of “hypochondria” that she has been suffering from for the last 30 or 40 years. As I have been laying here in my bed with the laptop sitting there next to me I have pondered the history of being sick for me and being a typical man, I want to whine.

Starting the whine festival I would like to remind you that my mother left when I was 5 {which of course is more for the newer readers than the older ones as I tend to bring it up a lot} so it isn’t stories of chicken soup and kisses on the forehead from momma, and quite frankly it realistically reminds me that I never really got sick as a kid. Now that I think about it, I never really got sick until I married my first wife, so I guess I will start from there. Being sick with EX1 around was a real treat, despite the fact that I didn’t have much experience being sick, I probably should have practiced a lot more before I was married to the meanest woman that ever lived. I still liken her to the snow witch that would walk through a garden and the flowers would curl over and die. The first time I caught the flu at work I came home and did what I had heard you do from Sesame Street on, and tried to curl up in bed and sleep it off. This was rather hard to do with a woman who wouldn’t leave your side, shut the fuck up, or muster up any compassion. Her constant reminders of what a baby I was {like all men} didn’t exactly help my attitude at all, and come to think of it, when I recovered from that flu bug, the first thing I did was put a lock on the inside of the bedroom door, so I could lock her the hell out, if I ever got sick again. The answer is yes, and it resulted in listening to pounding on the door the whole time too.

The second wife I have immortalized for her ability to take care of people, and it really was no different when we were married, it’s just that she would wear sexy “whore” outfits to have sex with me, and remaining married to her for the sake of the children seemed like the right thing to do. Her bedside manner was so infamous that our marriage pretty much ended when she ran off with a drug dealer while I was in the hospital after nearly dying because she ignored my pneumonia. I guess looking back on it all, I probably could have gotten a bit whiney through all of that but she wasn’t around to know, and the nurse from the hospital said I was a lot better than most. The rehabilitation process from the collapsed lung {and the cheating ass whore of an ex-wife that I wanted to sub consciously get even with}, ended up turning me into an ubra gym junkie with a 5% body fat and 18 inch biceps within 6 months, so I guess that I weathered that storm ok. She still tells the kids that I whine when I am sick, but my oldest reminds her that she whines when she is well.

EX3 was not a very caring person to the sick and downtrodden either. Her girlfriend came over here the last time she got sick to get away from her, so I am not alone in those regards, but she was another person who the very first time I had gotten under the weather immediately started with the “Oh God, you’re going to get whiney!” which of course made me pissy. Who wants to be sick and have combative people constantly treating you like a burden? I mean realistically all I ever want when I am sick is to be left alone and here I am right now, to afraid to get more than 50 feet away from a toilet and I am inundated with a 6 year old, an 8 year old, and a 77 year old that want nothing more than to be standing between me and that toilet asking stupid questions. I mean realistically there should be a rule on how many questions you are allowed to ask a sick person before they actually start to get annoyed, then breaking over into that threshold of being downright irritable! “Do you want something to eat?” {No thank you} “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?” {No I am quite serious, I don’t want anything to eat} “I could make you some Macaroni & Cheese?” {Look, I have my food coming out of me at both ends rather uncomfortably and I would prefer not to be adding more fuel to the rockets, OK?} which now leads to the insistence that I am being a miserable person. ARG! I would be a perfectly fine person if you could A. Leave me alone … B. Learn to cook things that don’t make most healthy people sick … C. MOVE!!!!

Now of course I had just sat down again after trying to make a B-Line to the bathroom with a 6 year old attached to my leg thinking that it was funny, to hang on as daddy tried to get from point A to point B. The humor was in actually watching her run from the bathroom screaming as daddy didn’t have time to explain to her that what she was about to see would be really really gross and would probably smell terrible. It was a lesson that she was just going to have to learn the hard was, and fortunately being a bad father I was able to find the humor between lurches of her falling up the stairs and all of the “ooches” and “ouches” that she was making as she was doing so, but it didn’t keep her from just being told off about jumping on me right now as I am trying to type and keep my intestines down. I think she just broke my pancreas! I should recover from whatever form of typhoid, or pneumonic plague that they gave me, just in time for a new bout of it to be hand selected and introduced into my system by one of these little bastards. You notice the only one that is locked away in her own room is the oldest daughter, completely avoiding any and all of this commotion, and that is why SHE never gets sick. I guess I’ll have to stop treating her like she’ll never learn, but I hope she is at least taking notes for when she is a parent. ;8o)

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So I had an idea today that I have mulled over in my mind and so far it hasn’t injured anyone, so it probably is a good thing. Through no fault of anyone else’s you have officially crossed paths with someone who is very opinionated and quite often I am not opinionated in the best way possible. I ran into this guy Landry yesterday that made my night, because his whole reason for being on CherryTAP is to rate the ever loving hell out of ya, and he is very proud of that. He’s damn good at it too actually, and I had more fun going through comments from him and making comments on him, that I figured I would do something to express what I like about people here on the TAP. It’s a cross between a “Meet my friends” and a “Best of the Best” and I am going to share it with everyone who cares to see it. Being a rather anal retentive {shut up Charlotte} person I had to sort out all of the rules for it today so that it is fair, and then write them out so that people understand why and what and how.

The rules are pretty simple actually, and I am going to list them below …

1. You have to exist to make the A+ list … This means that you have to have an actual photo of yourself for me to grab and put into the gallery. I am not a Bouncer, so I am not bound by any rules as to whether I believe a picture is you or not, and some may be fakes, and others I might deem fake are actually real. Live with it.
2. You have to have interacted with me in one way or another BEFORE now. This will eliminate all of the “OH ME OH ME” people that see a list and have to be on it. If I wasn’t good enough to communicate with before now then you ain’t good enough for the list. This can be amended at a later time should a genuine person come along that needs to be on the list, but chances are slim.
3. I am the Almighty and Benevolent Dictator of this list, but I may consult people on things {as I actually have already} so bear in mind that there probably was one or two very close friends that thought I made a good decision ahead of time, so you earned it if you make it and don’t argue with the Benevolent Dictator, about whether you are worthy!
4. The whole thing will take quite a while to complete, so if you are not on the list today you most likely will be {and I can say that in all honesty because those that actually read my blogs are all the ones I thought up immediately} but the A+ list will be limited to the amount of slots that can be in my “Family” list. If you make the list you are Family to me. Last I looked at it that is 25 people, but I think it goes up, and if I have to I will change this rule. Benevolent Dictators can do that yanno?
5. I originally was asking permission but now I am too lazy and I am just going to grab, add, and comment, but anyone that wants off the list will be taken off asap. Nobody owes me anything for being on the list, and you made it there for a reason anyway. Nobody on the list is obligated to visit anyone or even rate themselves either. This is Jeremy being Jeremy, and you all will just have to learn to deal with it. There will be no hard feelings on this end and I only hope that there isn’t any on the other end, as well.
6. This is NOT a contest, and I am not out to get anything out of it. This is not my veiled attempt to get 100,000 free Cherry Points, but I AM trying to get Cherry points for the people on the list. Please go see these people, because they are special to me, and treat them well.

So with that said, I have the first batch in there right now, in my A+ List folder in my images, which were the very first that came to mind when I was coming up with the idea. The list includes the two Co-Winners of most thoughtful {Charlotte and Lady Vic} who you need to know, because they are the types of friends that just know what’s going on. They both see the real you, and make you feel appreciated by their actions, which everyone needs more people like in their lives. Year Of the Dragon {YOTD} has been “The Queen of the MUMMs” in my mind for a while now. Her MUMMs don’t get out of hand because she does a great job as a hostess, and steering the angry people’s comments away, so that the people who want to participate don’t have to feel attacked, and I so appreciate that. Mary “The Cherry Bomb” kinda spooked me at first because she looked just like any of the “Diva’s” out there that puts up their gorgeous pictures, and let’s everyone come and worship them, but FUCK NO, she gets right in there and gets her hands dirty. She’s probably second only to the Master Rater himself when it comes to going out and earning friendships, and takes amazing pride in how she bombs a page. She also gets credit with Landry for helping inspire this blog and directory because as I was bombing Landry’s pictures, she was on every one herself. Then there is Lynn, the fiery Vamp that probably could have been a runner up to Mary’s “Coulda Been a Diva” crown until you look through her galleries. Her eclectic tastes and her good nature made her a shoe in for Fun People, because I dare you to get to know her without being a bit fascinated. Then there is Jag, who just kinda pops in and out of your page, but always does those random things that make you scratch your head with a smile on your face. Tammy get’s true blue because that poor woman has followed me from place to place, no matter what type of chaos I bring upon myself, and like my Cyber Mom and Dad {Cathy & Don} is just always there, no matter what. Last there is Landry … well let me just say you really need to go learn about Landry yourself, because he is extremely hard to explain, but well worth the learn ;8o)

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It was rather interesting day to say the least, as all of my co-workers were having a very hard time dealing with something that has never happened before, which would be the Patriots losing their first AFC Championship game. They have been there 5 times and they had won every one of them, and I found myself in an awkward … actually, scratch that … the usual position, of being the only person there with any logic in the whole matter. I slept well last night, and more to the point because like I had said last week, I thought the Colts could win and if they did it would be the way they should get to the Superbowl. Some of the numskulls that I work with were grouchy and devastated, and had a pile of excuses over why they lost and it was sickening to me to see them acting like Cowboys or Raiders fans. I personally thought that I had a seat to an epic tale last night and I am going to spell it out for any of you that are still reading as I tried to spell it out to the fellowship of the miserable today.

Conceivably it is possible for a lot of people to look at the Steelers Superbowl victory last year as being a duck and run. The Patriots beating themselves out of the Denver game, gave the Steelers the opportunity to go to the Superbowl and victimize the minor league team {the Seattle Seahawks} which actually made that Superbowl win rather shallow. I know that a lot of Steelers fans are about ready to spit on me over that one, but it’s true. Indianapolis could have been faced with the same ordeal, as sad as it sounds had the Patriots lost to the Chargers because despite all of the name calling that people have started doing when it pertains to the Patriots, they are the team of this decade, as were the Cowboys the decade before, the 49ers the decade before that, the Steelers the decade before that and then of course the Packers back in the 60’s. Denial of these things only makes you look foolish. I likened Peyton Manning to Steve Young more than to Dan Marino in that regard because despite the fact that Peyton will break all of Dan Marino’s records, and Marino never won the big one, Marino was every bit as much to blame for these things as all of the things that Marino and his “fans” tried to blame it on.

Now with that pointed out, here was the real problem that Peyton and Dungy had which was far more reminiscent of the 90’s San Francisco 49ers in the regards that it wasn’t so much playing themselves out of contention as it was being stopped dead by an entity. Last year they were beaten by the Steelers, but it was using the same battle plan that was laid out by the Patriots, and the execution of it by Tom Brady. Here’s the rub on it all as you look at Steve Young who in his own rights was one of the best Quarterbacks in the league, and I would have traded an army of Troy Aikman’s for, but he couldn’t beat the Cowboys. That was of course until he finally did, and he did it the same way that Peyton Manning finally did it yesterday, and despite the heartbreak that I should have felt as a Patriots fan the “NFL” fan in me was enjoying what I was seeing despite the outcome. As we go back to Dan Marino for a moment, let’s place him in the situation that won the game for the Colts at the end, and wonder for a minute what was different about what Peyton Manning did.

If you’re stumped it was the “Team” around him that brought him where he was {because let’s be real here, he was not spectacular in these playoffs at all} and for that last touchdown he handed the ball to his rookie running back who stormed into the end zone, and then believed in his defense to finish the job. Now I am not saying that Manning is a selfish player by any means, but Marino was. A team like the Patriots, or any other team during the Marino years, had him at that point, and always did. Manning went the Steve Young route, and that was commendable. Steve Young of course during those years desperately needing to get over the Danny White syndrome that he was suffering from {meaning replacing a super star quarterback, breaking all of his records, and just never doing it in the big show} and he did it by letting his team get him to the show, where he could be the star. Most of us remember that Superbowl as one where it was all Steve Young and Jerry Rice, which is how I see this one going with Manning and Harrison probably making Young and Rice look like conservative football players. More power to them because I will never root for a Bears team, because I am still vindictive over 85.

The drama though of that game was amazing, because if you were like me you saw that first half and said, “Oh here we go again” as the Patriots did to the Colts what they always do on the big stage. They started humiliating them, and I know that even the Colts fans {be honest} were getting that sinking feeling. That’s how Epic things are written though, because you have to overcome that which you never have, and if I personally was going to send the Colts off to the Superbowl I would have written it this way. They needed to prove that they could take down the Patriots playing the game the Patriots way, and my hat is off to them, because not only will it never be said again that Peyton Manning and Tony Dungy can’t do it on the Big Stage, it will go down in the history of the NFL that they did it on THE Stage, against THE Team, and the past is the past, because they don’t always choke, they can now be one of the greatest teams to ever play the game, and not just the team that avoided the demon. I say this out of experience too because of the Jacksonville Jaguars sneaking my Patriots into the Superbowl in 96 where Denver should have been. Keep in mind though, as it pertains to that San Francisco team that finally got over the Cowboy’s hurdle though … The Cowboy’s won the next two ;8o)

Want More Free Art? ...Visit the new angelis deZines on the web at www.jeremycrow4life.com/angelisdezines or check out my galleries at CherryTap

“How low can the Crow go” is often on the minds of people who have read the things that I write for a long enough period of time, and sometimes I never cease to amaze even myself. Now first and foremost, let me say that I love CherryTAP. I said it before, and I will say it again, but this place rewards you for being nice, and that is great. I write, and I create things, and it gives me a wonderful place to actually share it all for free, and actually get a little something for it, which totally rocks in my mind. All that and it doesn’t completely waste my time trying to do these things like Yahole and MySpaced do. I have always ducked under the black helicopters and aliens buzzing around my head to try to point out that I think those sites give out slow bandwidth on purpose to keep the mind numb zombies that use them from doing other things other than stare at their adds for 5 to 20 minutes at a whack, but that’s just me. I digress, as I often do to what I am going to bitch about here. Those fucking contests!

First of all, let’s get one thing strait right now, show some class you prostitutes. Don’t come and place a comment on my home page begging me to come comment you up in some contest, especially if you only come around to do that. It’s fine if you want to look like a whore, and be pimped out by one of the ubra mucka lucka cherry pimp daddies that rarely make nice with anyone else on the tap because they are too busy organizing ways to get others to do all their work for them, but don’t treat me like your John. I actually happen to do quite fine in the point department without showing my titties or my cootchie or actually begging anyone to come comment me up. Although let me make it perfectly clear that all of the ladies who like to show me their cootchies and titties and let me drool all over them and stutter while I type are GREATLY APPRECIATED, it doesn’t mean that I am simply the next John to comment your ass up in a contest by someone who will probably only come to my page to steal contestants for the next contest at BEST!

If you need to feel skinny and pretty, just ask me and I will write you stories about it, I can be pretty convincing even. If you need a Platinum Cherry I would be perfectly happy to buy you one if you want to ten all my pictures and fan me, because those things only cost 10,000 Cherry Bucks to a VIC, and if 10 of you are getting 1000 comments times 5 points and 5 Cherry bucks that’s 200,000 {two HUNDRED thousand} points and bucks you gave to the contest holder, while he {or she … sorry don’t mean to be sexist} is with me looking at the titties and the cootchies! You should at least win a Porsche, and they still make about 75,000 cherry bucks profit, and a level or two! Not being petty really, but just trying to point out that I want to be left out of it all, for the sake of decency, I miss reading bulletins that aren’t all “Come Rate me Long Time … I pay you back!” {oh God … I still get the giggles} …

I also need to lament the death of my own sanity this week as I had two rather awful, mind changing experiences. First was a minor one really but it made me think a bit differently about some things, as it has always been my motto that “Once I have created it I am done with it” and that is how I feel about the artistic shit I make, because I am not going to get an ulcer over it. I encourage people to Rip my creations because I think it is nicer that more people look at them, some people hate that. I never cared much if people altered my creations because all they do is make it look stupid and sooner or later people will find the person who made it to begin with, and we will all get a chuckle out of it. I was doing a friend a favor when I decided to go and start rating all of the pictures in a person’s profile so that they could level up. There were 700 of those bastards in there, to which I think I got through about 150 of them before I started feeling really bad about myself. It wasn’t because they were all stupid looking pictures of his face plastered on someone else’s work, because again that falls under the category of someone butchering things to the point of absurdity. What made me angry at myself was when I started noticing that he was covering over the watermarks on them, and not even creatively, just making a smudge over other people’s watermarks and I knew some of them. I felt like an a-typical moron actually giving this person credit for it all, and I won’t fall into that trap again.

This was followed shortly after by going through another woman’s galleries {a REAL attention whore who would do anything to be on the Legend’s List … *yawn*} which I thought I was being a nice person and rating etc, until I noticed that I recognized the photos I was rating. I looked to see if they were ripped, and they weren’t, they were actually stolen from other people’s profiles and re-uploaded to her own. I was actually furious about that despite the fact that it really didn’t effect me, but I can be a self righteous ass sometimes {I know that’s a shocker if you made it this far in the blog} and the people that she was stealing stuff from were all on my damn list! Yep, the black helicopters and the aliens need to get out of my field of vision because I thought at the time that I knew why she was showing up on my page every 20 minutes. Realistically I found out from one of the MUMM people {if you don’t read the MUMMs you really are missing out on some of the Ubra A-holes around here just so you know despite the fact that there are a lot of nice people who MUMM} that all you need to do is swipe your cursor across the scrawl at the top of the page and you will appear on all of their pages as a profile viewer. It was after all how she had stated that she get’s all of her points since she doesn’t rate others. More shall be revealed {as my buddy Spike would say} ;8o)

Want More Free Art? ...Visit the new angelis deZines on the web at www.jeremycrow4life.com/angelisdezines or check out my galleries at CherryTap

Well after the phone rang this morning, and I saw that number I hate to see more than anything else {the children’s mother} I had assumed that she was finally calling to exercise her visitation that I had worked out with her about 2 months ago. Course as far as her responsibility issues go, which has gotten us to this point, let me just say that in the last 10 or so weeks since I had agreed to let her and Whatshisname {never name an animal before you eat it, or a boyfriend of my ex wife, they won’t be around long enough to be worthy} they have come exactly zero times! It’s not the need to see her children in which she whines about not seeing her children after all, it in the pity she gets in not seeing her children. I really could care less if it wasn’t for her need to talk to them about seeing them, getting the son all worked up about it and then … well missing the last 10 visits. She has called 3 times in that 10 weeks which I guess is a modicum of improvement, set aside the fact that we haven’t determined what hurts him more, whether it be talking to her or not talking to her.

I could prattle on incessantly about how I feel about women devoid of maternal instincts, but I think I hve done enough of that over the last 2 years of writing blogs. Facts be told, sleeping with, impregnating, and marrying women like this is a family disease, and I haven’t got the temperament to look at my son and see myself anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I really do feel for him, but there is a vicious cycle that needs to be broken here before he goes off and finds a woman like the one my father and I ended up with. It all goes back to that “no speak” rule that most families adhere too, and I have had that up to my eyeballs already in my 36 years on planet Earth. My father still gets uncomfortable when I try to talk to him about “real life” family isms that have plagued us, and that includes bad decision making skills. I let him stew, because he’s already moved 2000 miles away, and refused to own a telephone over this shit, I don’t want him to have to live in Germany next. See how wonderful the areas of denial have gone, that we have gotten to this point in the “no speak” vernacular.

It’s rather interesting now that Captain ADHD is 8 years old, which is twice as long on this Earth as the age he was when he set that fire that burned down the apartment complex that he was living in with his mother, and we finally have found a head shrinker that wants us to lay it all out. It’s been really hard work the last few weeks trying to get his head on strait while the other tragedy that that woman caused is rearing it’s ugly head, in the form of Imtoocutus’s hearing loss coming back. It’s hard enough for a single father with very edgy coping skills to deal with having one child seeing a doctor twice a week, much less two, and added on to another daughter going through puberty and all of the things associated with that. I’m sure you have probably noticed that I don’t actually complain about that much, and it isn’t actually the “no speak” rule as opposed to the acceptance of a “stiff shit” as my Aussie friends would say. I am a doer and not a complainer by nature mostly because, things still need to be done and whining simply delays it getting done. In other words, despite being the king of analyzing bullshit, I still like to get to the other side of the bullshit and then analyze it afterwards, in the hopes of learning from it and not repeating the bullshit.

The bright side of all of this is now that Imtoocutus is off of the prescription brand of “Crack” that the doctor put her on. Her hearing is greatly improved again, so she is probably going to avoid another surgery. The doctor was as pleased as I was because I have abandoned the “no speak” rule and am perfectly willing to have a total nervous breakdown if I have to sit in a waiting room again while she goes through that. The common belief that I can be strong for her is a fallacy that I am willing to admit right now because I don’t do well in hospital environments at all. She came into this world without me present because we learned our lesson when her brother was born. The dark side with a silver lining in all of this is that the new Doctor that is seeing Captain ADHD twice a week has a different mentality then the last one and I am going on his instincts that we shouldn’t walk around all of his mother’s issues anymore. This means that I am sitting in the appointments and we are talking candidly about the things that concern him as apposed to the “mommy is busy” or “mommy loves you but …” talking that he has had 4 years of, and I have to agree with him on this as there is improvement intermixed with all of the anger that he is feeling. This was precipitated by the fact that this Doctor finally pointed out that if his mother hasn’t even assisted in letting him know that it all wasn’t his fault {she was off getting laid God knows where and left a 4 year old and a 2 year old home alone to play with her cigarette lighters for God’s sake} then it’s probably time that we let him know more about what is going on. Yes I realize that most people are riddled with the “no speak” anxiety over letting an 8 year old know that his mother has problems {in a controlled environment of course} but the Doctor and I agreed that there is a pattern here that needs to be broken.

Needless to say, I have been emotionally exhausted lately having to deal with the “tough questions” and the well worded “tough answers” that come with it all. It’s not easy sometimes, and unless you have been there you don’t even have a clue what it is like to have to edit what you say all the time. I want to say “Because she’s a fucking loser,” but often have to translate it into “Because she just doesn’t do the right things all the time,” while at the same time keeping the tongue of a 14 year old daughter that DESPERATELY wants to say “Because she’s a fucking loser,” as well. This is just heart wrenching to me really, because I have to remember at every step of the way that I didn’t just marry “a fucking loser” but that I “don’t do the right things all the time” while at the same time, as I always say when people ask about my youngest, she wasn’t an “accident” she was a “surprise” or in other words marrying that “fucking loser” gave me the children that I love and cherish, even if the marriage didn’t turn out that way. See what the definition of mental exhaustion is?

I guess to answer the question that a lot of you might be asking yourselves right now … “No there is no redemption for the truly evil,” because she didn’t call to schedule picking up the kids, when she called. Again I was forced to be in the situation of trying to get her to talk to the kids when she didn’t even have time to do that, yet again on the now eleventh Saturday in a row that she has not come to see the kids after we went through a year of peace negotiations to get her that right. She had called to see if I could let her claim one of the kids on her taxes, despite not paying any child support for 4 years, and not having any legal income last year I was forced to sit here and again tell her that she doesn’t have a right, and doesn’t even have a deduction without income. What makes it so sad is that I am doing this when she should be seeing her kids instead of trying to figure out ways to exploit them, yet again. It’s why I live in “Realityville” despite all of the sensationalistic stories I write about Superdaddyman, the Evils’s and the Pink Mafia to simply escape from what is often my reality which is “It beats the shit out of the same old ‘no speak’ rule” ;8o)