I was rummaging around

July 13, 2007

  and realized I haven’t upset anyone in awhile.  I mean really upset them, and it makes me feel like i’m not doing the one thing I was placed on this planet to do.  That being said….

My best friend growing up was a lesbian.  I didn’t know she was a lesbian, and I’m pretty sure since we slept together a time or 6 she didn’t either.  Once we were grown we were still friends, but we stopped sleeping together.  She told me things about when she was growing up that I had never known.  Her step-dad was one of those sick fucks, and without going into details should’ve been taken out behind the barn and shot.  He had 5 step daughters.  Anyway, I went to hang out with her and all her lesbian chums In Virginia Beach.  Oh, she was in the navy at the time.

   Each of the young ladies in her little don’t ask don’t tell clique seemed to have stories much like hers.  They were all very nice people, and i had a very enjoyable week.  On the last night I was there they took me to dinner at a bar restaurant called Reflections.  It had a bit of a gender bender type crowd.  The best looking gal in the place was this really nice guy named Scott.  I pride myself on being able to be plopped down anywhere and thrive on whatever happens.

   I did.  It was a very good night. I met a lot of freaks.  they met the personification of mentally deranged straght, and a fine time was had by all.  The food, I had shrimp alfredo, was terrific, the booze flowed as it was supposed to, and i think I danced with at least three human genders, and maybe a couple of aliens.

  Afterwards everyone went to their respective homes, and we all got together for the big sendoff the next day.  4 of the young ladies showed up for my departure with black eyes.  It’s quite possible that their upbringings had nothing to do with the sexual orientation choice, but i’m betting it had something to do with the relationships they were in being abusive.

That’s right…i wrote about something personal, and about lesbians.  If you aren’t mad yet, remember.  I have the whole weekend.

oh, I’m not a lesbian


You’re on borrowed time

June 20, 2007

   Well, its true.  You are.  A friend of mine returned to work today.  He’s an old ornery codger named gordon, that I happen to like quite a bit.  This is a rare thing.  Not gordon being old.  Me liking him.  A lot of the people at work are old.  Its hard to get young people to take jobs that require such things as sweat, and labor, and pain.  I’m not here to rail about the laziness of today’s youth however.  Hopefully they will be tomorrows lazy old codgers.

    Gordon is about 67.  He works as an electrician, and does a pretty decent job of embarassing men half his age with his stamina, attention to detail, and all around exemplary work ethic.  He talks about his farm and his horses, and whatever else anyone wishes to talk about. If he starts the conversation though, its about horses or farms.  He says hello Will everytime he walks by me.  Hows the day going?  He reminds me of the folks back home, and this is probably what caused me to levitate toward him.  I generally do not make friends at work. The reason for that is that I am working.  Its a novel concept that I’d like to see tried by the millions of nitwits that play solitaire, or write, or chat, or surf porn at work all day.  I’m almost certain it won’t take.

    Anyway.  He returned to work today.  He had missed three days because of the death of his son.  A man 8 years younger than I.  I shook his hand, and through careful scrutiny was able to detect the pain in his eyes when I expressed my heartfelt condolences.   I buried a brother when I was 12, and will never forget the hell it put my parents through.  The old saw about you should never outlive your children might well be the truest words ever spoken.  He thanked me, and you could see it actually meant something to him.  He didn’t take it as mere platitude, but an honest expression of sympathy.  Not a smarmy thing.  Not boohooin and huggin, but a man thing.  Which same I’m sure makes many of you roll your eyes, but its a fact.  Men exist.

    Anyway, in our brief conversation after this I said the guy couldn’t of been but my age.  He said how old are you?  44 I replied.  He said with no malice, but obvious chagrin that I’d gotten 8 more out of life than his son.  Then he grinned and said I guess that means were both on borrowed time.  I smiled, and related the story about my brother, and pointed out that everyone is.  He chuckled and said since the time was borrowed we should make the most of it.

   I’m not sure how I got talked into riding a bean brained swaybacked horse this weekend.  I don’t really like Gordon that much.  Riding a horse is kind of like wrasslin a bag of antlers.  What the hell. Its not my time.  Enjoy yours like you borrowed it.