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The night was dark and dreary at the Casa Di Evils's as the Caped Pervader was examining valuable data {porn} on his trusty laptop from the super secret hideout known as the Superdaddycave. He was less than eagerly awaiting another “hostage swap” as the key faction of TOKE {the Terrorist Organization Known as the Evils's} were to be transported back to solitary confinement after their small work furrow to The People's Republic of Maine. The prisoner transport arrived at the scheduled hour with the most diabolical minds known to the human race strapped in the back, and the Sister of The Mother of all the Evils's {SME} was more than happy to hand over the evil starved little fiends to the Superdaddyman and escape back to The People's Republic of Maine, with her sanity merely scarred. The reason for the hostage relocation over the last 5 days was the usual, and that would be re-indoctrination to the enemy forces known as The Former In-Laws {TFIL or sometimes referred to as “Those People”} which of course requires a bit of re-patriation upon their return.

It was an odd arrangement that SME and the Superdaddyman worked out this time around for they both were sick and tired of listening to TFIL whine and complain about not being able to corrupt the Evils's as thoroughly as they once liked so since the Superdaddyman had decided that he was no longer their personal prisoner transporting device, and also due to the enemy invaders that were riddled throughout all of their heads whenever they were returned. The Superdaddyman had finally concluded that if he were to simply not allow the Evils's to go and be re-infested with lice every two weeks then they would all die off due to lack of “clean hair” to be in and breed. He still awaits the recommended gestation time to see if that theory holds out. The facts still remain that out of 500 inbred Mainers on that side of the family, there wasn't a one that was willing to share the transporting duties or for that matter remain sober long enough to visit the Evils's until now, and that will be short lived as she unfortunately became akin to what the Superdaddyman has been complaining about all along, in the form of infantile and inconsiderate users and their irrational demands.

You see the problem for her was not the Evils's in general, as she happens to be the defender of 5 of her and her boyfriend's Evils's, and aside from forgetting most of their names she can handle 3 more as aptly as Superdaddyman could not. What happens is that she happened to see first hand what it is like when you are the keeper of the Evils's that only a good hard lesson in futility can teach you, and that would of course be the fact that everyone that she is related to happens to just be whiners. The very first obstacle that she had to overcome was all of them demanding the times that they see them. This of course required her {like at one time it would have the Superdaddyman} to do all of the transporting, and of course spread out over 100 miles in 3 directions. All times of visitation are always calculated to the most inconvenient times, and are always 100 percent determined by those that do none of the work in getting the Evils's from point A to point B. The Superdaddyman knows all to well the true emotional abuse that she is putting up with the whole time as whining and guilt are the only things being offered by all of the different tribes of this rather poor experiment in inbreeding. The phone calls that her cell phone must have gotten all day of “You always keep the kids from me, you always liked them more, I know you hate me, I can't see the kids unless it is 3 hours past their bedtime on a school night, so make sure you bring them over then!” etc etc etc were the reason that she brought the Evils's back looking about 20 years older, and all the Superdaddyman can do is empathize with her because he will not go through any of that any more, and will simply go back to believing that the Evils's are better off not seeing them when she quits.

The grand finale of it all of course is the phone call she receives from The Mother of All the Evils's {MAE} who has been on her shit list ever since she realized that she couldn't trust her own children with her {go figure a woman has her own children and every right to see them taken away from her by the state and she can't be trusted with other people's children, who would have seen that coming} after one of her children called 911 because they were alone and scared for several hours when MAE was supposed to be babysitting them. This does not make one very happy since the overly invasive People's Republic of Maine can't wait to start some sort of investigation on any parent. Social Services after all is the largest industry in that communist government, but I digress. She had a list of demands that was to be met or else she would call everyone in the family to start the drama of how her own sister was keeping the Evils's from her, and as usual they were rather unreasonable. Considering that this is a woman that hasn't seen the Evils’s since Christmas even though the Superdaddyman has arranged for her to have visitation, and she hasn't done that once in the 3 months that that had been initiated. The Superdaddyphone rang after the demands were installed. “She called and wants me to bring the Evils's out to see her but Lazius Boycrazius refuses to go, so can I leave her here alone?” the voice on the other end asked.

Upon deciding that it was ok {and actually understood} that Lazius Boycrazius would be paroled from having to go over to see MAE, and SME would not be allowed to leave the other two alone with MAE, the meet was set up. As always the Superdaddyman is not completely up to par on what had actually happened but apparently Imtoocutus {who was NOT very thrilled about going herself, but she's 6 so she doesn't know how to say NO properly} took the scheduling into her own hands about 40 minutes into the visit by sitting in the middle of the floor and screaming bloody murder “I want to go home, I want my Daddy!” and crying for well over 20 minutes no matter what anyone did, and it was only cured by them all leaving. The surprising part was that Captain ADHD who happens to be the staunchest supporter of MAE no matter how horrible or irresponsible she happens to be, or even how long he goes without seeing her, appeared to have no problem with it. He didn't even appear to have any problem being released back into the custody of the Superdaddyman last night as did none of the other two Evils's which is rather strange to say the least. In Evils's terminology, it all happens to smack in the face of the golden rule of Evildom actually, which goes “Our favorite place is elsewhere and when you try to remove us from elsewhere we will get even with you by any measures possible!”

Now mind you that the Superdaddyman being the ultimate purveyor of good, defender of the Evils's, virginity defender, and the guardian of all the fair maidens in their business skirts as they walk the streets of Megalopolis, has been down this road many a time before, and as always he is the man with no plan. He does however have instincts and the experience to deal with whatever happens as it comes, so he has of course braced himself for the inevitable. With the authority of the Superdaddyman he demands that the Evils's get their PJs on prepare for quiet TV time in solitary confinement. A ritual that is to be respected every night in the Casa Di Evils's and almost always “Phase 1” of what will usually be a very hard night upon the return of the prisoners. They did it without question. Now on to “Phase 2” as the Superdaddyman demands that they brush their teeth, which 2 of the 3 had already done before he could even ask, and that shocks the Superdaddyman to no end. What kind of madness is going on here? Upon going to “Phase 3” the Superdaddyman finds all 3 of the Evils's {even the big lazy one} already tucked into bed with the lights out and the televisions on, and the ultimate horror of finding them asleep before he can even initiate “Phase 4” which at the very least is always a nightmare after a trip away, the Superdaddyman could only draw one last conclusion. The Mother of all the Evils's somehow stole all of the Evils's and replaced them with clones. Superdaddyman will give you an update on this in a few months after he makes certain, but there is always hope that they are starting to finally see that they don’t have it so bad at home where they belong ;8o)

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Well I have to give James Cameron some credit on this one, since he has finally broken me. Jesus was simply a man, and the Catholic religion and all off shoots of it are simply falsehoods, and I can now go about my life simply hating those that disagree with me like the enlightened among us. It never ceases to amaze me how far some have to go in society to bring Christians down in one way or another, and this is not anything to do with politics, it actually has more to do with anti-establishmentism in the highest regard. Cowards like James Cameron and the likes of them actually want to tear at something that is far more powerful then them to feel more powerful themselves and it gets rather sickening after a while. I am not one of those people that bash Dan Brown for the DaVinci code as it is a work of fiction regardless of what he has said since, but I do have to smack in the face of those that truly want to just make as many people as possible miserable in one sitting as they can. Using the theories in the DaVinci code has become a new form of religion to those that say they want the truth, and in reality they just want the discourse. This is where it all stems from realistically is the ability to say “Nya Nya, You all are stupid!” when the little drama is finished and somehow becomes true.

Realistically James Cameron is already making a large sector of society look stupid now with his ranting of the tomb of Jesus, Mary and Judah purely based on rehashing old discoveries and relying on the dupes that didn't pay attention the last time. People clinging on to the Holy Grail of “we will show those evil Christians that they are idiots” have seemed to forgotten that this tomb was unearthed in 1980 and has since been proved not that of Jesus Christ several times before now, but that's what happens when you are willing to fall for everything just on a wish. You don't have to be Christian to be educated so I don't know what the excuse on this account is to begin with. The cowardice factor in all of this comes at the behest of my own opinions of Christianity haters in general. I am not saying that hating religion makes one a coward as I know many people that have legitimate gripes with certain factors of Christianity {take people that have legitimate issues with Catholicism for example because that religion has done some serious wrongs and recently} but I have never found anyone who is hell bent on bringing out “the truth” of Christianity as a whole to be anything more than weak in their own right. Let me explain that a little further though before I get back to this tomb.

There are many religions on this planet, and none really do carry the stigma that Christianity does, aside from that of the Hebrew. In general the most successful cultures on the planet all have Christian roots of one form or another and the jealousy of that is mind boggling but at least understandable. What alienates me from it all {and I say this knowing full well that even writing something that defends the word Christian has at least a few people sitting there reading this and just seething} is that despite the ranting of the secular zealots like the Rosie O'Donell's who would like to always paint the worst possible slant on Christianity, we don't actually have defended whackos in the Christian faith by today’s standards that kill or maim in the name of their God, while other religions do. We don’t actually have such innate hatred for others that the thought of their extermination makes us feel better {and those sitting their disagreeing might as well stop reading now, you may be hopeless} because it just isn’t in the nature of the religion as it stands right now. Why can't James Cameron or one of the other Secular Progressives in this world do a few tales on the Hadith for example? Now there is a religious and sacred book that over glorifies the wholesale slaughter of any culture in the name of God and never appears to be brought up. Almost all Middle Eastern Missiles are named after battles from the Hadith that were complete and utter unprovoked massacres on Christians that happened well before the crusades. Instead it's all about going after the Christians assuming there are no Jews to go after first. We all remember the way that “The Passion of the Christ” was portrayed amongst the Hollyweird and that was horribly unfair regardless of how violent the movie was, and I am no fan of Mel Gibson. It’s cowardly based on the fact that Christian and Jew bashing are protected speech, while the inference towards any other religion is a hate crime.

Getting back to the topic at hand, we have an entire news cycle dedicated to a man so desperate to simply disprove God that most people have overlooked the whole factuality of the tomb in which he speaks. Despite the fact that at the time of that tomb being closed Jesus, Mary and Judah were the most common names in that region of the world, and also the carbon dating of it all placing the time as about 200 years later, we also have to deal with the harsh realities that the average Roman is not going to bury the wife and child of someone they brutally crucified in the same tomb. They usually tend not to even remember where the tomb of those they brutally crucified is. Realistically there is no going back in all of this as he just really wants to prove that the crucifixion never happened. That is all well and good except for several major problems, and the first being that it really doesn't do anyone any good, and the second being that his own hatred for certain sectors of America {meaning roughly 80 percent) have guided him to the point of actually ignoring the most probable in the name of proving his point. Whether you believe that Jesus died on a cross or was the son of God, or is God, or any of that is totally irrelevant to the whole argument as most scholars believe that he lived and he was crucified at the behest of Pontius Pilot even if they believe that he was merely a lunatic as did Pilot. These varying beliefs have coincided for many centuries in a form of harmony and to simply try to rock that boat is pointless unless as I said you want to make people look bad or simply lose faith, in the name of humiliating large numbers of people.

In either case or any of the scenarios I really just don't care. I am like anyone else in this world that simply does what I have to to get by. I take joy in what I can and where I can. In all reality I have shouted it from the rooftops that the bible and the teachings of whomever, be it Jesus Christ, the disciples whatever if done in good faith are not damaging. Like anything else there is good and bad in everyone and like being a racist, a sexist, a homophobic, a xenophobe, or even a secular zealot you are the one that is damaging, not the things that you are pointing your hate at. The bible as a survival tool for the first millennium was essential or people would still be dying from tainted food, mass human sacrifice, or simply dying off from their own fighting and killing amongst themselves. As I look towards that book today I don’t see it as being the source of life's problems, but in a few ways like anything else if looked at without hate can be a very good source for some solutions. I think that we do people in general a great disservice, when we paint everyone with the same broad brush, and just like I have no tolerance {and I mean absolutely NO tolerance} for anti Semites I have no use for completely secular progressives either. That has nothing to do with whether you are a Christian or go to church. It has more to do with the fact that if you hate me, I hate you. That is how the human mind works after all, and human beings can only accept being the hunted for so long before they become the hunter. I know it's a touchy subject thanks to poor educational systems over the last half century, but feel free to study up on what was happening just before the crusades since most people I have met don't actually know. We love to beat up on the Christians for that and many cultures stepped WAY over the line, but nobody ever talks about what was happening in the century that led up to the crusades in general. That piece of revisionism is the downfall that we are feeling today, and I would never wish those times on anyone, ever again, but then again I would never wish anyone anything other than tolerance. We can’t have tolerance without disagreement to begin with, so all that is left without that is apathy ;8o)

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Laying low in the super secret hide out of everyone's favorite super villain turned super hero, the Caped Pervader taps away on his trusty laptop educational device, in his undying effort to teach the boys and girls of Megalopolis another valuable lesson in life. Life at the Pink Mafia Headquarters {PMHQ} is daunting enough for the Superdaddyman even when he is on top of his game, but it has been troubling times as of late as one of the fiendish biological agents that the Terrorist Organization Known as the Evils's {TOKE} unleashed upon our brave young hero, has incapacitated him and made him quite deaf for going on two weeks at this point. This in turn has made it far too easy for the enemies of the Superdaddyman to create chaos in spots where it had been the Superdaddyman's job to do so. The sheer horror of having the evil that lurks throughout the halls of the PMHQ walking about in the open is something that the mere mortals among us cannot endure, and as it is unveiling it is not beyond the realm of possibilities that the Superdaddyman could fall prey to a once obvious prank or two that he wouldn't have even been near on one of his better days.

The whispering that the Superdaddyman heard all around him apparently was not one of “those” times like the doctor {who we all know is in on it but I'll show him} tries to explain to the Superdaddyman is just his imagination, it actually was on these occasions the PMHQ 2 and 3 feathers strategizing. The Superdaddyman of course is not amused as he has the hearing back in one of his ears today and can hear them quite well, but thanks to his keen stealthing ability {and all of those stupid acting classes his crazy ass mother made him go to when he was young} the Superdaddyman was able to simply play deaf and use it all to his advantage. For most of the day it was nothing more than half feathers explaining to each other things that they had done to mess up various things that the Superdaddyman had already cleaned, but as in most good spy missions our favorite Super Hero played the deaf role to it's fullest so as not to blow his cover. This even included the inbred moron who thought explaining to one of the female co-workers about how he had totally missed the urinal and then walked through it and got it all over the floor in the bathroom. Well at least for now, the Superdaddyman will pretend he didn't hear it.

While infiltrating the location known as “The Smoke Shack” the Superdaddyman was alerted to something that was brewing with one of his Arch Nemesis' in the form of one Paco Taco who apparently had been spending a bit too much time around the Superdaddyman's utility area. Remaining ignorant to the sniggering and the talk of how the Superdaddyman was going down he was at least able to surmise that the plot to do so was to come down right before our favorite Super Hero was to go to the lunch truck. This happens to be a favorite way of getting under his skin as interfering with the only things that he likes about the PMHQ are the best ways to make the Superdaddyman pop his top. Aside from flooding the toilets when the OC saleswomen {in their ridiculously short skirts and at least 4 feet of legs} tour the facility, that usually is the only time when chaos really gets to the Superdaddyman. The fact that Paco Taco is making it so obvious simply means that he requires an audience for whatever form of ill deed he has for the Caped Pervader. This of course can not be tolerated, so the Superdaddyman waits until the “others” in the direct vicinity vacate so that he can go and “lurk” about the utility area stealthily.

Nothing actually appeared out of sorts throughout the whole utility area, no matter where Superdaddyman looked, and this of course made our favorite Super Hero more nervous. The pile of trash bag boxes left untouched, the chemicals stacked neatly, toilet paper, paper towels, mops, buckets, brooms, window .... The telescoping window washer is missing! Now the Superdaddyman tries not to come to conclusions as this is the type of thing that everyone around the Pink Mafia “borrows” without anyone's knowledge so that they can wash the second and third floor windows of their house, but it is also the tool that the Superdaddyman has used to place many of Paco Taco's belongings in the rafters of the factory ... um ... accidentally of course. Superdaddyman thus decided that it was time to walk rather hastily to the other side of the PMHQ where his opened utility closet {housing his belongings} is located as he realized that it was probably a shock value enticement that he had just spent an unnecessary 30 minutes away from his possessions. Oh the humanity of this horrible disease and the ability it has to weaken our brave young hero in the face of such overwhelming evil!

Meanwhile back at the Superdaddycave Southern {aka the closet} the Superdaddyman appears to assess the situation. Again, nothing looks out of place but knowing the fiendish mind of the Paco Taco, anything subtle could be amiss in all of this. A very short inventory was all that was necessary though as the very thing that houses the Superdaddyman's personal inventory {his fine leather bombers jacket} was missing. I imagine that it doesn't take the keen mind of an everyday super hero to see where this is going. Superdaddyman spent the next hour walking around staring at the ceiling rafters trying to make it look less conspicuous despite everyone walking past him doing a double take and laughing like a hyena. In time he did spot the sleeve of his jacket dangling from one of the rafters and refrained from barking out the language that decent super hero's don't talk about with children reading on. See what the Superdaddyman goes through for all of his adoring fans? Back to the utility area he goes to amazingly enough find the telescoping window washer where the Superdaddyman usually would have found it earlier. Upon letting out a big sigh he grabbed it and went walking back out into the warehouse to face the audience that would surely be waiting to laugh as he got the Personal Inventory Transport Device {aka the jacket} down from the rafters. It's sad to see all of the half feathers gathering around to watch Superdaddyman play piñata with his own jacket as if there aren't any better things to do.

As the Superdaddyman prepped himself to start poking at the jacket, to make it fall from the rafters he heard from his deadened but functioning ears the voice of Paco Taco say “watch this” to one of the other onlookers, which thanks to the keen mind of Superdaddyman was processed in an instant and caused him to lower the telescoping handle and walk to the other side of the rafter as if he were trying to get a better look, and it was then that he saw the Marklift up against the wall. Despite the fact that it now had him facing the onlookers who were trying very quickly to pretend that they weren't paying attention, Superdaddyman then with the reflexes of a cat smacked the steel beam right where the jacket was creating a huge puff of white talc flying strait at the crowd that had formed from the opened bag that obviously had been set on top of it. Paco Taco being one of the three people that actually knew what was sitting on the jacket got out of the way rather quickly as the huge cloud immersed everyone else staring dumbfounded. The collateral damage that took out most of the line crew was not a total loss as the rest of the 30 pound bag that had been poured on top of the jacket hit the floor right in front of the Superdaddyman getting him pretty covered as well and the only person in the general vicinity that wasn't completely covered in talc was Paco Taco.

Upon acquiring the jacket again the Superdaddyman was able to go and get cleaned up and is laying low at the moment writing this blog as I am pretty sure that Paco Taco is pretty scarce on he other side of the building. There is after all 20 guys that are every bit as itchy and pissed off as the Superdaddyman is at the moment and it may take a little while for them to be able to laugh it off. At the very least everyone's favorite Super Villain turned Super Hero is a man of the people as he has more talc in his clothes than his grandmother's bathroom, but at the moment he isn't really ready to take his chances out there especially considering that he is able to hear all the things that they are yelling back and forth to each other as they try to get the talc out of their clothes in the bathroom. Come on 2pm ;8o)

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Greektradgedius Inyiddish cam stomping down the stairs this morning waking me up at 6am which was not appreciated in the least, especially considering that I had gotten rid of of The Terrorist Organization Known as the Evils’s {TOKE} for the next few days in the express hope of getting some sleep and hopefully feeling better. She had seen the caller ID and noticed that there was a phone call from the particular neck of the woods that her brother was last seen in Canada on the caller ID and raised herself into a panic over it. Waiting for me to wake up and question me about it was not an option in her mind despite the fact that that phone call had kept me up past my usual bedtime to begin with. Here’s where it gets a bit crazy as I try to figure out if I know her little secret that she appears to be keeping from me, as she immediately put on her new face and walked away when I assured her that it was not John.

By the title a lot of you know what the topic of this blog is and a few of you might even know the history behind it, but I will give you a quick refresher course about what it is like to be a member of my family on two different levels. The first level being that we are all amazingly fucked up, because of genetics and quite possibly in-breeding. My mother’s side of the family is not as obviously inbred as my father’s side, but it’s there and it dates back to the Upper Class English background routes before marrying into Slovakian ancestry, and in turn becoming a mixed breed of Scottish-Wallachian Vorbelach which the women appear to be born with nether worldly powers. My mother is so riddled with “sight” that it has driven her mad, my Aunt is so clairvoyant that she can drive people insane no matter how far away they move, my cousin has “enchantment” and so on and so forth. May all seem insane to most but I have grown up with it and accepted it as such, as I and my father can both call the dead, or in other words see and communicate with dead people, as that gift to the best of my knowledge was given to us by the ghost that I grew up with. Some I accept, and some I do not still because some “gifts” can seem really reaching and others really obvious. This of course brings me to my grandmother {Greektradgedius Inyiddish} who most have sworn has the ability to “wish death” on a person.

Now keeping in mind that that is one of those things that is often misconstrued and often reaching, it was her father {my great grandfather} and her husband {my grandfather} absolutely swore to their dying day that she could do that, and to a certain extent she has beaten herself up about it enough over the years to think it is true. Her behavior right now makes me believe that she really is believing it is true because I can’t think of another person on this Earth that she would have had one of those subconscious moments of wishing they were dead more than her brother. That is another whole dynamic of my twisted family as he managed to steal the family fortune from the rest of the family and spend it all effortlessly in almost no time at all. Big deal, in my mind as I have found that wealth does that to everyone and nothing dissolves blood like money, and how much she hates that man is a favorite topic of hers when she has been drinking. This coming from a woman that abandoned her family over 50 years ago, when she came to America and absolutely none of us have been close to any of them, but the fact remains that the first person to drop dead immediately after her wishing it aloud was her younger sister. Her father never seemed to forgive her for that.

Now my grandfather, mind you had known about this incident because of the Scottish propensity to drink and tell tales of things that may or may not be true, and the big mouth on my grandfather had received a rude awakening when he brought up the conversations that he had had with my grandmother’s father immediately after their wedding. My grandfather coming from the stock blood of a woman that would rant and rave all the time {as the women in his family all grow insane by the time they reach 30, yet still live to be 100} about what a hero Sed Pesch {or count Dracula} was to the great people of Wallachia. As it was what her mother and her mother’s mother and pretty much all of the women dating back to his family that was all entrenched throughout the armies of Dracula and were all blessed by the Pope for their defense of the Holy Roman Empire. He had also been quite indoctrinated into the beliefs of those that carry great gifts as his family was given them by God, and it was well documented. The power to wish death on anyone and have it be reigned down from God himself was a very true common knowledge of the most orthodox in the Russian church as was his entire family. Have I lost you yet?

My grandfather was the one who explained it to me as he had a real issue with drinking a bit too much {and alcohol actually stopped his diabetic heart in the end} and babbling about the things that people shouldn’t if their lips weren’t so loosened by the drink of the two times she had done it in his company. This is where it often gets blurred for me as there are times when people tell stories with a strait face and other times when they tell stories with a dead strait face, and the horror, and remorse in his voice no matter how much he had been drinking were dead serious. I have managed to completely skirt these issues with Greektradgedius Inyiddish for the 20 years that I have known despite the fact that she will talk quite openly with anyone about the rest of the family’s “gifts” as if it were simply a matter of “fact” as I do here. My first “Tales of Wallachian Fables” was actually for the most part co-authored by her, as she helped me to remember some of the best parts in my revelations. With this she has been avoiding me all day basically like she always does when she has been “figured out” on something and I assume that realistically I am going to let her slide on this one, as I am not prepared to bring forth any revelations in a 77 year old woman that is either going to drop dead on me from it, or beat me up with guilt about it until her 100 years has expired. It’s an interesting conundrum, as we are still getting phone calls from distant relatives that none of us have talked to for many years looking for John, and I see her face turn pale every time she is forced to talk to any of them.

That’s the background of it all as I spent a good deal of yesterday trying to teach a woman who can’t get the VCR or DVD player to work on her TV how to use a computer so that she can e-mail all of her family as they search the Earth for this guy. I should have put two and two together then while I was trying to tell her that a “pop up” ad did not mean that hackers had invaded the house and were going to turn off the electricity. I bought that Learning Windows CD ROM sets for my daughter {19,000 cherry bucks for your 70$ investment mind you … but I had been hooked on the thought of getting those anyway from the Infomercials} and after teaching her that the CD ROM drive on the laptop was not the way that President Bush or someone else equally as evil transmitted all of her bank account information from the desk drawer under it, she has been watching the things rather intently and learning a few things. It was what she started doing after she had realized that she was letting the cat out of the bag earlier today. It’s very hard when you have your own 3 children that have their normal little anguishes and heartbreaks that all children go through, and you as a parent have to love and encourage them, because it is the right thing to do, while at the same time having a grandmother that just so often you have to do the same thing for. In this case, I do the best I can just like all of the other scenarios that I lead into on a day to day basis, no matter how “weird” they are ;8o)

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Well now, it’s time to tattle a bit about my newest obsession here on CherryTAP as I am finding this new Crush of mine to be very interesting. You all know her actually, and you all adore her, but I am the one that is looking at her everyday when I sit at my computer. I never used the Crush feature before because I was quite convinced that it would create some sort of drama as women would try to figure out if it was them or not. It’s the jaded mind of a man who was way over his head at one time when he wrote, and in the end was cast out of his own little melodrama because of the obsessions that he was able to create at one time. Now I am sitting here with the obsession of sorts, and horribly concerned that it will create some sort of hysteria, but alas those days are behind me now, as I am one of many scrolls that go scrolling by with a pretty face, and admirers of my own. No more, and no less what I was yesterday or tomorrow.

I picked a beautiful woman to have my crush on after all, so it is nice to have that extra picture off to the side that doesn’t go anywhere, doesn’t make it so I have to chase her down or wonder if she is online or off. I can simply hold my mouse over her and get my updates should I choose too, and pop her notes every once in a while because I can. She’s been on my friends list since like my second day when I had only 5 friends on here so perhaps she has been my stalker all along. The facts remain that I have been lucky to have her around despite the fact that our first actual talking was when I was trashing all of her friends, and somehow she got over that. Then it happened when she started posting her new photos and I couldn’t stop running over to stare at them. Obsessed you could call it as she had the looks that I would have actually put together myself had I actually had the Mrs. Potato Head version of the perfect crush. Does she know? Does it matter?

I am after all a love addict and I could fall in love with every woman that I ever came in contact with, so the fact that I always try to stay guarded of these things, is something that I have ranted and raved about for years now. I have deflected women while I always find myself being full of shit when it comes to that as well. I have fallen in love online several times over the last few years, and some how, some way it ends or it never goes anywhere or it becomes too real. I have hurt women and women have hurt me and it has always been … are you ready for this one … MY FAULT! It’s a tough reality to face actually because I know it, knew it and I know a lot of people reading this have watched it. I also always believe that the next one is the right one, or the best one, and in a lot of ways it always is. I grow I learn I explore I make mistakes I grow I learn I go on. This one is so special that she probably doesn’t even know that I lose track of all time just paying attention to her. It’s taken me three days to write this for example, and I am fine with that. It has all the makings of the perfect crush, and I want to thank CherryTAP for once again accidentally teaching me something about me.

For any of you out there that have a crush, be it a real one, or a contrived one, or even if you are just throwing it around to see who you can drive crazy with it, sit back for a moment and actually think about that person. Try to remember whether you even know why you have a crush on them to begin with, or just try to figure out if in some way they have a crush on you. It’s been a natural part of your life since the day you realized that cooties were simply a fictional insect, and in most cases a little before that. I am pretty happy with the results of it all so far, and I can’t see it changing anytime soon. I think the only thing that could have made my little crush experiment go horribly wrong would have been if I had told her and she was mortified by it. I did, and she wasn’t ;8o)

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It doesn’t really amuse me anymore what I am seeing in the news, and more over as self righteous as I can be, I found myself feeling rather sorry for a few people the last week or so. I mean it’s a tale of two bimbos in effect, and I know that everyone is getting sick of hearing about it all on the news but I want to interject a few things here because I can and I happen to have a bit of a different expertise on these sorts of things than most people do. I know that most of you have heard about the passing of Anna Nicole Smith, and like me your first reaction was probably, “Well that’s what happens,” and then along the way it turned into “Enough already, she was nothing more than the lowest common denominator,” but as I find myself feeling rather guilty for forgetting a bit about myself, I shall blend it all into something that one would not expect from me.

It actually was today on the radio I was listening to stories of another couple of losers in the form of Britney Spears and Madonna, that it really sort of hit me, what is wrong with the world today, and I had to drag out the old soap box and remember where I came from as well. I don’t talk about it as much as I used to, but many of you might be reading about it in my old blogs as I post them about, that I happen to be a recovering alcoholic. Its part of me and it shapes who I am immeasurably despite the fact that I just past 17 years sober last July. It also was a part of Anna Nicole’s make up but in the form of serious drug addiction, and now we are seeing it in Britney Spears as well. The difference between me and these two is the fact that my drinking turned me into a cursed object and not a blessed gem, or a Golden Goose to put it a bit differently. With that said I see it in the headlines from that trial over what is going to happen with Anna Nicole’s body, and we are only seeing the beginning of what will happen over the custody of her baby.

The sad reality of it all is that the men that surrounded themselves around Anna were nothing more than a pile of sick and decrepit scumbag gigolos that were sucking the marrow from her soul the entire time they did everything they could to keep her a train wreck. They killed the Golden Egg laying goose because they couldn’t stop feeding off of it. Without her fallen diva status their meal ticket ended and now you are looking at a baby that is a few weeks old that has already been granted a death sentence before her first birthday. The scum that are fighting it out over who gets that Liza Minnelli style prize, are going to take her and turn her into the same type of doomed from birth tragedy that we seen in many of the second generation death princesses out there, only worse based on the fact that the men around this baby are already proven to be death lords, when many of the other ones have at least had the opportunity to be brought up better in a lot of their cases. I see Britney Spears being dead by the time she is 30 because she doesn’t have a single positive influence around her anymore and now that her core audience {the child molesters} have moved onto younger idols, she is left with nothing but “yes” people, to feed her to the headlines she gets.

Now as I said I feel for her really badly because there is no way out of this sick cycle carousel until she can be separated from the people who make a living off of her falling apart. The hair shaving incident has created a lot of wonderful rumors and all, and her skipping out of rehabs is funny, but there isn’t a single person on this planet that is within arms reach of her to tell her that it is wrong and give her a bit of tough love. Here is where my heart goes out to her in the sense that as self righteous as I am, and no matter how much I want to justify the misery of the overly and undeserved “famous” in this country she probably will not run out of money before she finally kills herself. That is a scary proposition as I look at it because I would have killed myself under those circumstances as well. We are having a lot of fun at the expense of Anna Nicole and talking about what a circus it has become, and how she was never more than X – Y – Z but nobody has stopped to talk about anything we can learn from this, and we aren’t going to learn from this. It’s sad in a way as we are gearing up with our popcorn for the next train wreck, and I see this and say, “Oh My God, my daughters worshipped that train wreck for a time,” just like I am certain that Britney must have idolized some other train wreck before her too. Who knows where her kids are right now, but I am sure that most people don’t really care, other than to beat her down with the info.

I am sure that some people look at Madonna and consider her to be a wonderful role model but despite all of her gerrymandering about parenthood these days, does anyone really take her seriously? I mean we are made to believe that she has some sort of influence, because she is allowed to buy babies and then turn it into a humanitarian effort, but her parenting skills for God’s sake? What we see is the woman that very proudly displayed her ability to sleep with every “has been” from the 80's and 90's, and not a wonderful parent, and that is just a fact. I think personally it all gets clouded in the belief that times have changed that much, but it all really is as created as she was coming out of Julliard, and nobody is willing to let it wither on the vine. When does she see her children darting around the world telling everyone how to live their life? Most people forget that she had children. This isn’t being bitter, it’s just the reality that she is the ONLY pathetic role model left from the 80’s that is still held up to this sort of veiled esteem and I don’t believe for a minute that anyone actually cares what she has to say. I bet Britney idolized this woman at one time, and someone is still whispering it in her ear that she will be her, and I could have sworn I saw the two of them kissing in a publicity stunt, before she started totally losing it. Will the insanity never stop? You laugh, but this is a typical role model to women from my generation, and a bit younger, trying to continue to be so.

I was given a chance at one time based on the fact that I didn’t have anything left. I was standing outside of my own apartment after trying to kill someone, and was with absolutely nothing in the entire world except my own misery. I didn’t have any creature comforts to take my mind off of what was wrong with me, and I definitely didn’t have another human being in this entire world who was going to assist me in getting through my own misery. I had totally run out of people that I could morph myself into at the end to be what I never really was. I didn’t quit drinking because I wanted to get sober I quit drinking because I wanted the pain to stop. No more, no less, and the choices that were given to me at the time were drink and be miserable, or stop drinking and perhaps get better. People like Britney Spears and Anna Nicole Smith are not given any realistic goals to shoot for in the “better” arena what so ever. They are convinced that they are at the top at all times, and because of that they will never be allowed to reach a bottom. One of them died for it and questionably killed one of her children already from it, and the other one is not long for this world, and her children are doomed as well. Try to remember that when you are enabling someone who is killing themselves through whatever measure they use, and try to at least have pity for all of the people they take with them. That’s hopelessness I will hopefully never have to endure, and my children who have never seen their daddy drunk will hopefully never have to recover from as well. For this I am eternally grateful, and will actually say a prayer for Anna Nicole’s rest, and Britney Spears life, because I understand better than I wanted to believe I did ;8o)

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The Twins of Kane – Genesis 1.3

Staring longingly at that door all day between tasks at hand is no way to get through your day, I realize this, but I couldn’t stop. That man plagues me at this point in the story. The hour that he spent in my presence was too much to bear really, and I saw that a lot of the regulars that would have been off to do other things haven’t been able to pry them selves from the place either. They stare at the door just as longingly as I do, and I even thought at the time that that was rather strange, but of course it came out in the form of jealousy. I would have been ashamed of myself had I actually been in control of myself. The last thing I ever expected at this point of my life was to care about any guy much less start to obsess over one, so fortunately at this point of that day as closing time was nearing I was starting to snap out of it. I just had to figure out a way to get everyone else in the place to start snapping out of it so that I could get the doors locked with them on the other side. There was plenty of grumbling when I announced last call, but for the most part all of the lovesick puppies did start maneuvering their way to the door.

The clarity had started coming to me as I was cleaning up the diner that I hadn’t been cleaning up along the way as I always had before. Seeing Burton like that earlier really did put a certain fear in me that I would to never have to see again in any living creature, and I guess I should be honest right now and say I haven’t seen Burton since that moment when he was sitting at that bar and realistically I don’t want to know what happened to him. Your ability to absorb knowledge decreases a lot when you become jaded I know, but as I am cleaning the counter on that day I am still quite confused. The winds outside were howling quite a bit and the warmth of the air had settled down quite a bit as the day went on. It’s only 3pm at this time so you would usually assume that it would be warmer than it was at 9am when the door opened up to let that stranger in. It’s actually quite chilly now, was pretty much exactly what I was thinking, as the warmth from the dishwasher almost burned my skin. I’m the only person in the place now as Barney, the cook, went home about an hour ago, because it was my day to do the dishes.

The whistling wind outside had been steadily picking up for the last 20 minutes or so, but that’s normal around here. Kansas never was the nicest of weather this time of the year, and my mind did tell me to keep checking the window to make sure that a tornado wasn’t in the making across the horizon. We’ve had about 7 good ones around here in all the years I have been alive and most of them have done some really bad damage and the last one that rip a good portion of the roof of the Skillings Plant, and was the first time we went through the turmoil of, “will they rebuild here” which in the end they did because it would have cost less to patch the roof. Rebuilding the place is not an option as the place is just a blackened pile of rubble now. That wind is starting to get rather ominous now as I am forced to deal with more chewing gum in a coffee cup. I swear I never could understand people that are that thoughtless when they don’t have to clean up after themselves. I feel like I married half of the bozos that come into this place everyday, and now that I think of it I may be.

The only thing bothersome to me now, besides the wind, is the thought of having to walk home in it. Hair like mine and the wind are not good friends and my eyes really hate the idea, so as I am looking around the place for a rubber band or braided elastic or something, and yes I usually throw a bunch in my purse but end up going through them really fast, and I spy a piece of paper under one of the tables. Even though I could have sworn I had just cleaned over there, I went over to pick the thing up after all, because I don’t want to have to do more cleaning first thing in the morning. I was crabby about it obviously as I got down on my hands and knees to grab the piece of paper and hit the floor hard the second my hand touched it terrified by the sound of glass exploding all around me. My hands were clenched hard around my head as glass pieces were showering the floor and the only thing that saved me was being under the table between the booths. I trembled for what seemed like forever after I heard the last piece of glass hit the floor, and it took everything in me to stop trembling and crying long enough to stand up, and look at all the glass everywhere. Glass had torn into the vinyl on the booths, shredded the curtains, scratched through the tables throughout the diner, and pretty much destroyed everything except me.

It’s a really humbling experience when you come to the self realization that you probably should be dead, and there was no evidence in the diner that I would have survived that blast of imploding glass, and looking everywhere around there wasn’t any evidence of a lot of things. For starters, there was no evidence that the weather had been turning sour when I looked out the window. There was no evidence that anything else had been damaged in the area, outside either. There was no evidence that the place I had been standing would have been very safe, as the glass had completely smashed all of the coffee pots that were on the Bunn right behind where I had been, and then the scariest part of all of this came as I looked down to the spot I had been laying which was the only place that the glass wasn’t. There was no evidence that there ever was a piece of paper there. I was actually quite adamant to go right over there again and carefully get down on my knees and look around for it, and yes as I just said, that piece of paper was totally gone.

My chest now started tightening up on me, as I am kinda feeling it do just reliving this, and I noticed that my breathing was getting rather erratic, and that was when I knew I better get outside because the next part of this was going to be bad right here in the restaurant. Stumbling to my feet, and felling the glass that I pressed my hands into as I clumsily stumbled up to get to the door, my heart starts pounding hard, and I can feel cold sweat welling up all about my face, as I do finally make it to the door, and at the top of the two steps that lead into the diner I see him standing across the street staring at the largest man I have ever seen. The two of them don’t take their eyes off of each other as they are about 7 feet apart. I remember how still they were, and the expressions were totally lifeless. The size of that man across from Lou was intimidating even from this distance, as he was so much larger than Lou, who is a rather large man himself. My body had seemingly forgotten why it had come out here as I looked upon these two and the face of the bigger of the two began to turn towards me when the reason I had come out here unleashed. With a flash of blinding pain and fear all wrapped up into a millisecond of pressure inside my head the panic attack hit me, and I imagine that I hit the ground in front of the stairs, but I wasn’t exactly conscious to remember it.

When I came to, I immediately recognized one of the town’s two doctors, and it would be my luck that it was the one that I don’t use for myself or Jake. Not that he is a bad guy, I just prefer the woman doctor, but I guess that really doesn’t matter. He looked at me and said, “Well you had quite a startle, young lady, would you mind looking at this light for me please?” and he was holding the pen light that my own doctor would have been under the circumstances. I’ve had two concussions so far from my panic attacks and that usually is the norm when you pass out and land on your head. I’m happy actually that I am not like the people who go blind rage during theirs at least, but the face first routine has given me a lot of bruises and scars over the years as well. “Do you remember anything that happened while your panic disorder was hitting its stride, so that perhaps you can try to avoid these things happening to you in the future?” he said to me, as I stared back at him dumbfounded. You have to admit that it is natural to think that, that was a stupid question under the circumstances, but as always my mind reacted a lot faster than my mouth, because I had the notion to turn my head back towards the diner before I said anything about the windows because there was no damage to them at all.

My chest didn’t start constricting like my mind first thought it would because let’s be real here, this is a panic attack style moment as well. I turned back to the doctor, and simply said “Um, no, I can’t seem to remember anything strange at the time,” which came out as clear as if it had been the truth. Single mother with derelict ex husband teaches you the art of lying like a used car dealer without all of the flash. I probably could have been the actress that a few of those passers by pretended they wanted me to be. “I was just rushing to hard to get out and I think I overexerted myself way too much,” and looking back on it, I can’t believe that I didn’t start thinking I was delusional or something but for some strange reason I knew that it happened even though it appeared that it had not, and I wasn’t prepared to deal with it yet and knew that too. My own survival instincts are pretty in tune I suppose. In any regard, my mind at the time was simply trying to get the doctor and onlookers the hell out of there so that I could go about the events of actually fathoming what happened and who that was with Lou, and I guess at this state of the game who is Lou. ... to be continued

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Yanno what gets me are the filthy thieves that hang out all over the world. I know that my motto is “I am not getting an ulcer over things that are stolen from me” actually but I do get a little pissy. Its human nature really so when I came across a CherryTAP page that was basically stolen photos from other CherryTAP members a while back I simply blocked her and went on with my life. Today I came across a page of someone that simply steals other people’s things and then lies about why they do it, like most of them do but it was my things. I was actually pissed off because quite frankly I make skins for everyone to use, and this person simply took a bunch of them and saved them as her own skins, and then gave me a cock and bull story about redirects, and not knowing what she was doing yet. She then turned it into an advertising campaign.

This doesn’t bode well with my nature to be a self righteous a-hole so I decided the best thing to do in the scenario was just start keeping a “shit list” of Bad cherries, because it amuses me. She managed to be my very first, but unfortunately the world is made up of a lot of bad cherries, so who knows how long that list will get. For the most part CherryTAP is made up of a lot of good Cherry’s too. I loved the fact though that that Cretan hadn’t even rated my page when she stole the skins, so she was definitely shit list material, and earned herself on my very short block list. This brings me to a new problem that I have found with CherryTAP and I am hearing a lot of ranting about lately. Fat Sonny has dedicated quite a few bulletins to it and I have to say I agree with him whole heartedly. The block feature here isn’t even adequate. I mean it is great for making it so that someone can’t down rate you, or leave you harassing messages, but it doesn’t keep anyone from stealing your stuff, or keeping tabs on you.

I think the funniest thing I figured out this week when I finally decided to try out that “crush” feature is that it is the stalkers Ubra Tool! Right on my page now I can have a picture of whomever I want to, know exactly what they are doing without even having to look for them now. I mean seriously, if you are a depraved psychopath hell bent on wreaking havoc on someone this is the way to go. When you see them online you can simply jump over to their page and see who is hanging out there. Go harass them a bit, repost all of their photos NSFW whatever you choose. After you start up a bunch of new profiles you can simply keep track of your new obsession to make sure that you get all of the same friends with your “other” profiles” just in case that person has told them what a freak you are.

We saw a variation of this with whomever the nut burger was that was putting all the redirects up on everyone else’s pages from the 30 or 40 profiles that they created. I don’t blame anyone for that because it is hard to do anything about that, and in reality the person is simply trying to get everyone to have to start forcing their comments to be private. It’s fun for some people to take the fun out of being open, just like your average thief does when they steal your pictures. SweetySuzy {who hasn’t made my shit list yet because I hear she is probably mentally disturbed … but I leave that option open as I always see her on my page} simply downloads your pictures and re-uploads them to her own galleries and then makes them private. It falls under the heading of “she knows damn well what she does is wrong” and the common theme amongst most people is that everyone else should have to make their galleries private. Some of us really don’t want to force people to be our “friends” to know us or see what we do. It’s the same thing with skins and whatever else. If someone wants my photos or skins then for the love of God at least let me have the link, because 99 out of a 100 times the person looking at it is NOT going to click it anyway.

The advantage of all of this for any of us in the long run is that we should simply know who the shit bags are, and not associate with them if we chose. I am never going to tell anyone who to, and not to hang out with. I think the “fan creators” on CherryTAP are pathetic at best and for the most part I just pick on them. I realize that a lot of people thoroughly enjoy harassing Fornicates for what seems {because I have no proof and again don’t care} to be creating hundreds of profiles so she can fan and rate herself, or the Greasemonkey cheats who are sitting in the top 100 because of their cheating, but in the long run it doesn’t matter at all to me. Don’t ever start thinking that those people are happy in the least because they know what they do is fake. I may be a point whore, but I feel I earn my points either by actually looking at photos and commenting, creating tags, and having stuff worth rating, not to mention the 200 dollars I plunked down for a couple of Happy Hours. Some of the unknowns are just plain obvious when you come here to begin with and takes a lot of lying to believe otherwise. Like the fact that the purple square around your name almost immediately signals “cheater” and because of that I wouldn’t want one. How many fake profiles on MySpace with a link to your CherryTAP profile does it actually take to make Top Promoter anyway? When I was researching that I lost count because I had better things to do.

While I am on my soap box I might as well finish off by pointing out another interesting fact that came to my attention as of late as well. I think that they really should start charging Cherrybucks for stuff more often like they do to repost bulletins. I think they should charge Cherrybucks just to create a bulletin, and make it hurt a little. 50 Cherrybucks, then you can go out and do something for someone to earn another one. A hundred Cherrybucks for a MUMM and then maybe they will be more thoughtful and less superficial. Don’t get me wrong my two bulletins a week are always self serving but I would easily plunk down 50 or a hundred Cherrybucks for them just like pay the 5 bucks to make them sticky. They disappear too quickly with all of the pap that is out there. Wanna pimp a contest out, then great, because you’ll need to replenish the Cherrybucks anyway. You’ll never hear me cry about the cost of things around here because there is plenty of free stuff on here to play with, and I like the place enough to pay for things. If you can’t afford to pay for things then you just have to keep using the free things is all. This place isn’t pay only, it’s pay for what you want, and crying about it isn’t going to get you anything but ignored sooner or later ;8o)

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I walked into the coffee shop on the corner this morning {ok yesterday morning} looking for my next victim at the cribbage tables. It was a past time I had acquired about 5 years ago when I had lost the will to live and simply figured that I would sit and play cribbage with the old guys down town to simply get past the misery of having my kids taken far away, and having to face some drugged out scumbag to go see them. Over time playing cribbage in the coffee shop became a rather “in” thing around here, so much so that the coffee shop went from two tables to 12 dedicated to “hard core” cribbage players. I went from being the youngest to being in the oldest half, and that’s fine with me. I still totally kick ass at it, and have graduated to losing the will to live because I have the kids and not the opposite {said tongue in cheek Cathy … please} even if my cribbage tables are always full.

Of course this is my realm so when I show up I usually get someone that is willing to move aside and let me teach “such and such” a lesson, or something along those lines. Today was no different as I did my usual routine of buying my large Ice Coffee {black … coffee flavored … LOL} and scanned the room for how many of the military crew from the Navy Yard were in this morning, so I could buy them all one. So 9 coffees later, including mine and I was sitting at the cribbage tables waiting for a partner. It’s better in the summer because I can look at all the hotties walking by in their skirts, but needless to say there aren’t any short skirts walking around in the 10 degree without the wind weather we are having right now. I wasn’t even paying attention when an old friend sat across from me in Marine dress blues with a shiney new silver eagle superimposed with a United States shield, holding a bundle of arrows in their talons on her chest. A fine chest Jen has at that, which I can say without her killing me because I grew up with her after all, and I was shocked at the very least to see that she had made Colonel. Not half as shocked as how FUCKING HOT she looks in a marine uniform. That I didn’t have permission to say but will take my chances.

She plays cribbage like an officer too, as she whooped me 5 out of 7 games, but I am enough of a man to admit when I have been beaten, but the conversation that we had was really enlightening. She was telling me about her tours overseas and how she finds it amusing what she hears. I’m not going to recycle all the same old pap about what we here and what they see, because you either know or you don’t and I am not going to change any of that, but when she was talking about being a woman in the military I was kinda in awe of the way she thinks now. Before you think anything that involves music with a lot of bass guitar, she’s married, so with that said I will continue. She said to me “The United States Military is the only job in the world that has complete equality” which like most people I always hear the opposite, but she continued, “Pay is based on rank and time served regardless. I have been all over this world and there is NO country that has that same gender equality anywhere, and the ones that everyone thinks does, don’t at all.” That wasn’t very surprising to me because I work with Bosnian women who tried to live in countries that they spoke the language better in before coming to America, and they always told me that.

Before I start going into a much heralded rendition of “God Bless The USA” she told me a lot of wonderful things about America, that I already knew, and a few other things that I didn’t as well that I will not bore you all with. I’ll get more to the point of this whole blog though with what we started talking about next. One of the things that always gets bothersome though when you are hanging out with an old friend {especially a female one regardless of rank} that is married is that they always seem to think they have the medicine for your ails and it always comes in the form of a “fix up” and this was no different before the games were over. First she had a friend, then a sister {and that brought a lot of laughs because I know her sister … cabbage would be better dinner conversation} then of course her husbands sister. I stopped her short of starting to try fixing me up with the girls behind the counter {despite how cute they are in a way too fucking young for me sort of way}, as I started explaining to her the revelations of me that I have been working on this last week furiously. Again unfortunately unless someone is totally fucked up like you are they will never see it. I tried to reason it out something like this ..

“I am simply a cursed object when it comes to romance. I always have the best intentions but I never have the ability to be anything but two speeds, too fast and dead stop. I fall in love with every woman I meet and I fall out of love with every woman I have ever met, while at the same time having too many feelings of guilt to ever be able to handle hurting another person in any way shape or form. That is what in turn creates the panic disorder as I beat the ever loving shit out of myself for being a rotten person, if I ever hurt someone, and inversely end up beating the shit out of myself if I am hurt. It has taken me forever to realize that there is no reward in it all and I am happier knowing that,” This of course forces her to try harder because like most people she has decided that I am simply in denial, ad continues showing me pictures. Ack! Although a few of them have looked good I stick to my guns, because until I squeeze back into my own skin I am completely useless to anyone. Didn't even go into the long drawn out explanations of having a broken picker.

All the ranting and raving about how lonely I am becomes moot and also adds to the stigmas that I often endure. I am lonely but … {insert one of a million excuses here} and then shake it all up and see what form of mental duress you can come up with now. I have attempted to be romantically inclined over the last several months online and ended up with, married {after the fact as always} engaged but I want to keep talking to you just in case {after the fact of course} married but don’t care {after the fact and then panic attacks} and then as always I am left to wonder if I ever had a brain to begin with. None of this ever translates well to anyone that wants to believe differently about what a total and utter mess I am mentally. Most people have this innate ability to consider everyone to be a fixer upper, and I am no different, and in worse retrospect I am far worse in those regards so again, I am wondering if it is the Pisces, the co dependant, the abandoned child, or the pathetically stuck at home with three children all the time that makes me so pathetic in those regards. I always have hope though simply because I am willing to tattle on myself, which is a lot more than most people do ;8o)

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The Twins of Kane – Genesis 1.2

To think that another day could get as boring as every other day is not very hard to do, when you live in a little Podunk town in Kansas, so just seeing a man so fascinating as this could become front page news. My parents, my grandparents, and their grandparents all lived in this town that houses a little over three thousand people. The only thing I ever wanted was to get out of here, and see the world. My own promiscuous ways ended that for me very early, as my son was born when I was fifteen, as I had said before. My daddy got out the old shotgun, and I married my prince charming. The honeymoon lasted until about the time the baby was born, and the wonderful world of fatherhood, wasn’t in the cards for Mr. Right, so I simply had to endure. I have been gainfully employed here at this coffee shop since before my seventeenth birthday, and my mom, dutifully took care of my wonderful son Jake until football practice started doing that for both of us. If I were a little smarter, I might have been in that university a couple of towns over, but I am pretty sure that it would have made child rearing a real chore. Not to say that I am the greatest mother ever, but I try, and that’s really all that counts. I can’t complain about him, since he has been the perfect little son, so I guess I am doing just fine really. I do sometimes wish that I had chosen a decent father for him, but when you’re young and dumb, you do things that are young and dumb.

It’s not unusual around here, for someone to come through town and decide it is there job to tell the pretty waitress, that she should be a movie star. People in other parts of the country see that in cheesy movies, or television and think its all fairy tale, but I assure you it is not. I don’t know what is more sad, that this still happens, or the fact that I already know it isn’t really going to go beyond the back seat of their car, or perhaps the only motel in town. From the point that I am writing this right now, there are still two weeks to go before I am that jaded, or worse yet, far beyond. The facts are still there that I every once in a while like to hold on to a dream or two, that I may be whisked away to far off places that nobody else from these parts will ever see. Sadly though, I am usually here everyday, whiling away the time, with the “usuals” which comprise nobody important really aside from your stray weirdo that this type of town always produces. I am back standing in front of that beautiful man trying to think of anything I can other than that beautiful man, so I am looking around to all of the people in the restaurant praying that someone else will make eye contact with me. That’s a first realistically as I usually look around praying for the opposite.

You have Mary the church lady, as I prefer to call her because “God Woman” as everyone else does is a bit mean, perched over on her usual chair over in the corner there. She’s no help at the moment as she is staring at the new man, and sweating from what it looks like over here. I don’t think she has ever had her nose outside of a bible for more than twenty five minutes in her entire life, but this guy appears to be the cure for that ailment as she stares at him. Over at the side of the counter is Burton, the town drunk or “do nothing” as I had said before, and unfortunately in my case “pervert” as well. I wish he would find a way to tip me for every time he has touched my bottom, but he barely factors into this story at all, so I guess I will stop talking about him. The real character is over here, as we are now looking at the Sheriff of this town, Walter G. Miles III. You care to venture a guess as to who the two Sheriff’s before him were? I have often heard stories about what a great man his grandfather was, but they are so overshadowed by the stories of what a creep this Walter G. Miles is. We all have our crosses to bear, but this character really stands out, like a monument to the stupidity that this town is also known for. His deputy isn’t like the ones you hear about in the movies either, when you have a Sheriff as corrupt as ours is, this deputy is pretty bad too. His name is Jacob Granger, and I am pretty sure that he will never accept no for an answer, but he really should, that’s all he’s getting here. The rest just come here to eat, and not to live and harass the waitress, and if they are women they are looking at the very thing I am avoiding. If they are men they are simply trying not to like me.

I have never had to shy away from anyone, but this man is making me weak. I can’t let in to this girly girl crush crap that is simply beyond explanation, so I grab the coffee pot, and with a new resolve, I simply start melting again as he stares through me. I do make it to the end of the counter, and his totally un-phased expression, the whole time would have infuriated me, if I didn’t want to strip naked and begin demanding his attention. He doesn’t even wait for me to quiver the words out, as he breaks the ice with, “Thank you Anna, your timing is refreshing, and you make a wonderful hostess” and for some strange reason, as his words echoed into my head I could feel myself starting to regain the composure I had before I set my eyes on him. I hadn’t even noticed that he had no reason to know my name, or for that fact, that until now, none of you did either. I hadn’t noticed that he actually called me by a name that nobody calls me by, as I had always preferred to be called by the second part of my name, Anastasia, or Staci, because just hearing him say anything now had me ready to start skipping around the counter, and looking back on that I think it should have all made me feel really creepy. It didn’t matter because I can say with a smile on my face now, that I was more concerned with finding out his name so that I could write it on my notebook a million times like a 13 year old girl.

I hadn’t even really realized that despite the intoxication of him now, I was at least able to function when he looked at me, so I simply poured his cup and walked to the other end of the counter looking back with every other step to see if he was looking at me. This entire scenario was like combining the purest of bliss, with the harshest of cruelties. To not be in control of the very feelings that permeates in my own body is as unfair a reality as anyone has ever faced in their life, and now it is mine. I don’t want to take my eyes away, I can think of anything else, and the littlest of scared voices in my head is telling me to just run in fear. It’s starting to make the most sense at this point, but I have to do my job, and I have to get this man out of my mind anyway. My new resolve at this point wasn’t too terribly much better than my last two, but it did get a couple of more cups of coffee in front of him. Each one was drank as fast as the one before it despite how hot it was, and yes it is amazing the things you notice after the fact when you aren’t suffering from total infatuation. As he peered through the pages of his old book, I did find myself able to do a little reading over his shoulder, so to speak, for whatever good that did, as I couldn’t decipher the language or even half of the letters of the book he was reading. I didn’t dare to ask him at the time what it was, for I was barely making it through my shift now as it is, but he took it upon himself to point at a line and look up at me. “To be varied unto the creator is the simple set of rules that all creatures of any might must adhere to despite their own shortcomings or lack there of,” which he then took a gulp of his coffee before he continued, “Everyone misses that part because of the translations,” which prompted him to stand up closing the large book, and walk directly over to Mary’s table where she was sitting alone, as she usually does.

Again, I find myself seething with jealousy as I see him lean over and speak to her. She stares blankly at the wall, and then manages to nod right before he sits down with her. I can only imagine that there would have been a lot of humor over the town “ice princess” being jealous of the town’s “ice queen” over a man that neither of them had seen before, but it was the reality of the time, and if anything I am honest. My mind is so cloudy that when the gorgeous stranger puts his large book on the table in front of them, I do a double take back at the counter where I had sworn he had left the book, but obviously hadn’t, and at that moment I was finally ready to give up on all of my delusional drama that I was playing out in my own head and get back to dealing with the customers that are probably angry that I have been ignoring them. None of them seemed to be though as they all were just as fascinated by the new guy as I was, and had forgotten all about their food or coffee equally proficiently as I had forgotten about them. I startled quite a few as I was dropping off food or trying to refill all of the hardly touched coffees, and when I reached the table with Mary, and the stranger, I didn’t appear to startle them at all, as they both looked at me at the exact same moment and smiled.

It took me a few seconds to clear my throat properly, and would have been embarrassing had I been paying attention to the real world at the time, but the words finally came out, “Can I get anything else for you two?” followed by an awkward silence, that gave me the opportunity to start wondering what I should do first, start ripping his clothing off, or ripping her eyes out. I had no shame at the moment either as Mary is old enough to me my mother’s older sister.

Mary is taking equally as long to clear her own throat as I had, and I did actually notice that at the time it was happening and I think it calmed down my need to kill her when the words came out, “No sweetie, I am thinking about leaving anyway, as much as I like looking at Lou here, and talking about the good book, I have to go to the Church and help out with the plans for family aid,” which did come out rather painfully from her, I could tell. Her own emotions even in my own weakened state appeared to be playing with her, and she seemed far more uncomfortable with them then I did, and I did start to feel great compassion for her, because she was far more out of her element then I was.

“You’re a wonderful person Mary, let me get your breakfast for you today,” I said to her as a way to help get her out of there as quickly as I possibly could, and it actually appeared to help her get up from the table. Her much older legs seamed far weaker than mine, as she was simply trying to escape the allure of such amazing beauty that was standing up as well, seemingly out of old fashioned values that I haven’t seen in years around here. I was still fighting off the jealousy that she had known the guys name before I had, and the inner struggle throughout this entire childish scene was maddening.

“I’m going to pay for her breakfast this morning,” Lou stated as he grabbed Mary’s hand and shook it, staring into her eyes, “I appreciate your help, and am forever in your debt Mary,” he then added as he kissed her hand, which made Mary blush for a moment, and then her face went rather blank, as if all of a sudden she was completely over her infatuation with him. As a matter of looking back on all of this, it appeared to be almost loathing as she looked upon him at that moment, but she did make the gesture of a proper thank you before she made her way out of the place in a bit of a huff. The mini “scene” that the whole incident caused brought forth some sniggers from the counter where Burton was sitting, seemingly the only person who was not in some state of “different-ness” throughout the new visitor’s appearance. It was more apparent as I walked past him to get back behind the counter and he grabbed my rear end again, as he always does, and I didn’t slap him, like I always should have.

Now that I was starting to regain my composure and start acting like a waitress again, there would of course have to be something left to screw all of that up as I didn’t even make it to the door to the kitchen before I heard the words, “I’m sorry Staci, I’ll never do anything like that again I swear,” come quivering out of Burton’s mouth. After I turned around to look at him I saw a very different man than I have seen all of these years as he was sitting there white as a ghost and quivering with his hands around his coffee cup staring down looking like he was about to cry. With that my heart nearly fell out of my chest as I had immediately gone over and put my hand on his shoulder, like it was instinct or something that a mother with a 15 year old son would do, and the tears started falling from his cheeks harder than the day I had realized that my marriage was over. I was immediately wondering what in the name of God had done this to Burton, who I thought would never have a conscious moment of clarity in his life, but I didn’t dwell on that very long as my own feelings of desperately needing to cry were all I could stifle because I looked to the other end of the counter to see that Lou was gone, and two 20 dollar bills were sitting there where he had been. It felt like every ounce of joy I had ever had was totally stripped from me, so I concentrated on Burton to get me through it. ... to be continued