Beyonce Sells

Today as I was watching television out of nowhere I was bombarded by no less than four ads featuring one Miss Beyonce Knowles. Now, I know she's a hot commodity. I get it. But does she really need to be slinging a fragrance by Armani, new DirectTv, the American Express card, thousands of Cover Girl products, and the brand new (cleverly titled) B'Phone? Is it really necessary? I mean sure, she's irreplaceable, or bootylicious, or maybe America is just still crazy in love with her...look I get it, but really?

Well as long as she's throwing around her body for every product in modern knowledge I've come up with a few more for her to endorse:
Introducing "Beyonce's Eve!":




For girls (and some boys) who want their privates to be BEYONCE FRESH, comes the revolutionary new product from the people who brought you the Nicole Ritchie and Joel Madden line of Trojan condoms (Specifically formulated to break during intercourse so that you too can accidentally on purpose get pregnant to skip jail time!)

Comes in these three rejuvenating scents:

Destiny's Douche
With the standout fragrance of magnolia and hair extensions, and two other scents that no one really ever pays any attention to. Everyone knows that they're there but no one really cares.

BenGay and Aspirin
This is a personal favorite of Beyonce's real life senior citizen lover Jay Z.

Beyonce Rain
Because Beyonce is too busy promoting every other product under the sun to be able to have time to come up with anything else that is original

Also, introducing the newest menu item from Kentucky Fried Chicken
"BEYONCE FRIED CHICKEN" or as the kids call it: "BFC"

As you may or may not know Beyonce has one of the best personal trainers in the business. Someone who is there to slap her on the wrist whenever she reaches for that ninth brownie. And that's why KFC is happy to announce BEYONCE FRIED CHICKEN, our first life of edible fried birds to be completely trans-fat, calorie, and carb free! With the tried and true recipe of eleven secret herbs and spices we now would like to introduce a new comer to the spice and herb market to our recipe. This new spice which is made out of detritus from Beyonce's never ending supply of wigs introduces a spicy undertone to our fried chicken that we think you'll fall crazy in love with.

P.S.
We at Kentucky Fried Chicken would like to clarify a rumor that Beyonce Fried Chicken is actually battered and fried pieces of ex Destiny's Child members, and Rhianna. We would just like to go on the record to say this rumor is completely unfounded...we think.

There were more, but to be honest I'm too lazy to actually post them. Sorry, bitches.

I am not that Jordan Gribble

I'd just like to say for all of those people out there searching on Google for a high school football player named Jordan Gribble, this is definitely not his site. We do not play, watch, or talk about football or any such sports that have to do with balls on this site. We do not believe in ball sports, in the Church of Postarita; sorry. That being said, you have found a Jordan Gribble, just not the one that you were looking for. Although I can definitely say that I am more than likely one hundred percent more literate, funny, and charming than any other Jordan Gribble that you could possibly be searching for. So you might as well just stop with all this football business, and come over to the Postarita side of life, bitches.

Hot Shit of the Month December 2007

I just realized that I haven't done one of these in months, so I'm getting on that shit right now. I can't think of any must haves as of right now, and I know that this is the season of getting, and giving. If I think of any material goods to surprise your loved one, or your Jordan I will let you know. However I do have a list of Christmas songs, that you all must have on your Ipod play lists this Christmas season. These songs are guaranteed to make you want to frolic in a nearby snow field, or decorate everything in your home with shiny tinsel.

"Hard Candy Christmas" by Dolly Parton
(interesting fact this is the only Christmas song that I know of that is actually about a group of prostitutes being separated from their whore house. Still, a worthwhile listen.

"All I Want for Christmas is You" by Mariah Carey
I usually don't like Christmas songs that are really just love songs disguised with some mention of snow, Christmas trees, bows, or a combination of all above. But this song is a classic.

"Another Auld Lang Syne" by Dan Fogelberg
This song makes me want to weep. Although not even technically a Christmas song, it is always played on the radio around this time. Instead of being about presents, or sex under the mistletoe this song is about an accomplished singer running into his ex on Christmas Eve and then getting drunk with her in her car. An all around good thing.

"My Only Wish This Year" by Britney Spears
The reason that this song is on the list, should be a no brainer really.

On why I am always late

Usually I do an annual "Things I am Thankful of" list. This year is pretty much no different. I'm a one trick kind of guy.

grateful
Being completely surrounded by love
"I love New York"
Friends I've had since childhood
Friends that only recently entered but made an impact
Knowing that it's alright to miss some people even though you haven't seen them in years
Britney Spears and her never ending hot mess of a life. She makes me feel domestic, and tame.
Postarita it fkeeps me focussed
People who laugh at my jokes when they're funny.
People who laugh at my jokes when they're not funny.
Memories of "cum" parties. (This isn't as nearly orgy like and disgusting as it may sound)
that I didn't actually see most of my family for thanksgivng

This is why it's worth it

Him: "If I had an album, and I released a song I know what it would be called"
Me: "What's that?"
Him: "Gimme Less (The Jordan Gribble Song)"

A sliver

An Excerpt:


Sorry, edited because my story is changing directions.


Remember it's not supposed to be groundbreaking or anything. It's just trying to get out as many words as possible in a limited amount of time with no editing. So keep an open mind bitches.

Okay listen, the jig is up. I know who you are. Stop that shit. Right now. GODDAMNIT STOP IT.

NanoWriMo

You may not know this by reading my blog, but I'm an aspiring writer. Maybe not the best one, or the most original one, or maybe one who doesn't even know the proper usage of commas. But really who's counting? Anyways there is a contest, well not really a contest but an organization called "NanoWriMo" that I am now a part of to see how many people can write a 50,000 word novel in a months time. And I will succeed. I will, and I must. The charachters will be underdeveloped, and the metaphors will be clunky; but it matters not. It will be fifty thousand words written...well typed by my own hand. And when I finish this feat, I will post all fifty thousand words on this site. Aren't you excited, aren't you thrilled? Aren't you ready for me to shut the fuck up? Well yes, I thought so.


I'll keep you bitches posted though either way.

Blackout

It's November thirtieth...did you already Blackout?

BUY THE NEW BRITNEY ALBUM TODAY, RIGHT NOW, DON'T WAIT BUY TWO COPIES ONE FOR YOU AND ONE FOR YOUR MOM, AND MAYBE ONE OR FOUR MORE FOR ANYONE YOU KNOW!!!!!!!


Wow, that was awesome.

on why I love Natalie

Yesterday my friend Natalie stumbled upon Postarita (because I was admiring it, and her being a nosy bitch got all up in that shit), and she noticed that there are hardly enough mentions of her wonderful self. So, I've decided to rectify the situation by telling you all why I love her so much, and why you should go out into town and find yourself a Natalie. I'm telling you that bitch is a hot commodity, and everyone needs one or, twelve of her.

I love Natalie because:
She's a combination of all the best parts of people I'm no longer friends with without all of the qualities that pissed me off with the other people.
She is an intergal part of the syrup, and as we all know syrup = life.
She doesn't fault me for my everlasting love for Britney Spears, even though she doesn't quite understand it herself.
She understands that even though I play stupid most of the time, it's all a game.
She understands me when I say the stupidest, inane shit.
Because I know that one day she will finish reading the Harry Potter series, even if it takes her years just so I can have someone to talk about it with.
She will let me talk her into playing drunken karaoke with me.
She will also watch the Disney channel for hours with me, and understands my great love for all things "Phil of the Future"
Because the bitch is my soul mate, the yin to my yang, the SYRUP on my pancakes, the Justin to my Britney, the drugs to my Courtney Love.
Because she'll read this list and won't think it's stupid at all.

of tupperware and being pissed off

Several things are happening in my life all at once right now. And none of it is fun, or exhillerating, it's just pissing me off. I don't want to get into details in case members of the Gribble clan get it into their minds to look me up on the internet and find that shit. But let's just say that someone is moving into our house, and that someone is bringing with them approximately thirteen tons of slightly warped from the microwave tupperware from the nineteen seventies. We now have a box that is meant specifically to keep celery cold. Some might say that first of all "Who the fuck eats celery?", and second of all "Can't a refrigerator do that on it's own?" All that I can say to those people is, "I have no fucking clue, unless that shit is in Chicken Noodle Soup, I'm not touching it", and as for the second "One would assume, but apparently not so much." And moreover besides the multitude of tupperware products there is also an overabundance of ceramic angels, cats dressed up as angels, babies with angel wings, and just a whole other realm of winged collectibles.
I guess the real reason I'm posting is not to explain my current tuppeware situation, but to tell you how much of a bad person I am. I should be happy, and I should be glad, and I should be a lot of things. But instead of that I'm selfish, and pissed off, and completely one hundred percent NOT FUCKING AMUSSED. All I know is that I'm an awful selfish person. I don'tknow how I became this way, or how to stop, but I can't. All I know is every time I see someone move more stuff in here, I freak out. I think of how my life is going to change, and how everything will be different, and how I'm not into change and it's just motherfucking ruining my life. And you can call melodramatic if you'd like, I am very much so. But that does not change the fact that as far as I'm concerned things will never be the same and I'm just not alright with it.

Somebody stop me before I post something sentimental again.

A list of things that are exciting the fuck out of me:

Pay Day

The Halloween party I'm throwing at Natlie's house in a few weeks. Oh, and also the amazing Elvis costume I'm designing/making for said party. What you didn't know I was throwing a party? That's probably because you're not invited. YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE.

No, seriously....payday.

November 20th because the DVD of the century is being released

November 13th because the COMEBACK OF THE CENTURY is being released

November 21st because the light of my life (no way, did I just write that about my sister, but no seriously) is turning nineteen

Christmas because I want a new fucking ipod realllllll baaaad

Oh by the way, I was just kidding about that Halloween Party thing where it said you weren't invited if you didn't already know about it. That's total bullshit, everyone is invited, have we ever met? Have I ever accidently run into you with my car? Have I ever shouted obsenities in front of you? (this includes most of the free world, and all of southern Louisianna). I want you all there, because I love ALL OF YOU. No, really that's total bullshit. I just want to rub it in your faces that I'm going to be FUCKING ELVIS.


Good lord, I can't even remember what the fuck I was writing about.


Peace out bitches

Dr. Shoalls

You know that old saying about "walking a mile in someone else's shoes"? Yeah, I always hated that one. I never imagined myself figuratevely "walking" in someone else's shoes to see how their life played out. Until today, when I started a new job and at breakneck speeds around my house looked for my black shoes. I searched, and combed, and tore the entire fucking place apart. I was livid, I was crazy, I didn't know what to do. I never found them, so I go to my father's closet and take his black shoes. This might not have been that bad of an idea if he didn't wear shoes two sizes smaller than my own. So let me tell you that I have finally walked in someone else's shoes....and it fucking hurt. I've got the bloody stumps to prove it.

Numbered lists are the enemy

I hate to go all lazy, and pull a list on you, but here at Postarita you get what you pay for. I'm always a good value.

Four people who as of yet have not failed to make me smile this week:

1. Yesterday my father decided we need to do some work on my car and that he desperately needed my expertise (read: none), to help him. Help involved two hours of me standing there listening to him cuss at the "Goddamn motherfucking lug nut", which just so you know whatever a lug nut is...I have no clue. Also, this great important task involved me holding things. Apparently the ground, or the hood of the car couldn't be used for the same thing. No, I needed to stand there and do what I do best, which apparently is to hold things. But then I ended up putting them all down on the "FORBIDDEN DINING ROOM TABLE" and then he was all "Goddamn motherfucking Jordan." I really needed to hear this, trust me so do you.
2. My mother has just decided that clearly she is the world's best singer. And even more so she is the world's best Justin Timberlake impersonator and clearly needs to do this about twice a minute. Although you should really hear her when she's sings "I'm bringing sexy back.....YEAAAAAAAHHH!" in her best middle aged white woman, posing as a young white guy, who wants to be a black guy impersonation.
3. The other day I took my Grandmother grocery shopping. This is all well in good, I enjoy her she amuses me to no end. Or at least she did, up until the point where she's screaming obscenities in the middle of Market Basket because the "BROCCOLI IS TOO DAMN EXPENSIVE!". But what really made our shopping trip special, is when she decided that she didn't want to spend a whole $1.49 on a prepackaged bag of grapes. Oh no, that's much too many grapes. No, she just wants a part of them. So she opens one of the prepackaged bags, tears off what she wants and puts it into a plastic bag. And as I say "Grandma, I don't think you can do that." She looks at me with a loathing that should never cross a grandmothers eyes, and says "I'm eighty seven years old...who do you think is going to tell me no?" I swear to God, it was one of the scariest moments of my life. If you had just seen her sweet elderly face, turn all malicious over some grapes you would have nearly shit yourself too.
4. Today Natalie and I were talking about how we hated ambulance sirens and how I thought that they should do away with them and instead just have a nice loud, clear voice, calmly say "PLEASE MOVE THE FUCK OUT OF THE WAY, PEOPLE ARE DYING YOU ASSHOLE!" And then Natalie confessed to me that every time she hears sirens she's afraid it's the po po, and she starts throwing shit out of her car and screaming "PROVE IT WAS MINE, BITCH! PROVE IT!"

I like the word absurdly

For some reason in the past few weeks my site has become absurdly popular in Washington state. I mean ABSURDLY. You know it's important when I bust out the all CAPS. Apparently people in India dig Postarita too.

All I'm saying that is if you insist on reading, then I insist that you comment once in a while. That way I don't end up writing something that offends you. Let's be honest though, it's probably going to happen eventually. I'm just an offensive kind of person.


Also: This just in, there is currently a tropical storm heading for a Lake Charles near you as we speak. Winds of upwards of 75 miles per an hour are currently knocking on your door, knocking down your walls, more than likely molesting your children. I'm just saying, that "Hueberto" sounds like a sexual predator.

God Damn It

I know I just made a header, but I pretty much hated that one. So here is another one already, like a week later. If you hate it, fine. If you love it, let's meet out back tonight.


And in case any of you were wondering "Postarita" is an eleven point score.

DEAL

So I made a new header, it's not exactly how I wanted it to turn out but what the fuck ever. I'll try again in a few days, and until then you'll just fucking deal with it.

Full of Grace

I'll admit it, I had my doubts. Yes even the most devoted believers, sometimes have their doubts; all this proves is that sometimes you just have to have faith in a higher being. Sometimes you just have to know that there's something bigger, and greater than you or anyone you know, or anyone you know, happens to know; could ever possibly hope to be. Now, I am again completely devoted again after having heard the brand new Britney Spears single entitled "Gimme More". After having downloaded it, and listened to it repeatedly you will also have joined the Church of Britney. If you weren't already a follower, or had somehow strayed in your beliefs; have no fear. Britney is a merciless being and will grant you forgiveness as long as you promise to say your "Hail Britney's" as penance.

My Rose of San Antonio

San Antonio, Texas; sometimes it feels like I spent a better half of my life there. In reality it was more like a couple weeks a year. Every summer, and Easter, and some Thanksgivings, and holidays, and weddings were spent in San Antonio. I feel like some of my greatest childhood memories stem from that place, on Tropical Drive.

It's old stone front, and the once majestic looking cement lions guarding the front door. The pink room with it's plush couches, and fur throw blankets. I remember being in that room, on that couch with that fur throw blanket thrown over myself at the age of seven or eight. And I remember as I closed my eyes, to take a nap, I was smiling. And as I was listening to the adults talk around me, I remember trying to pretend like I was asleep, all the while still smiling. And I remember hearing her say "Look at him, what could be better than a child who smiles when he's sleeping?" And I just remember thinking that no matter what happened in my life; I would always have San Antonio. I would always have a safe haven to return to. I would always have a chance to be happy. I would always have her in my life. But, I was seven or eight then, not yet smart enough to know better.

My safe haven ended two years ago, and I haven't been back since. I've had chances, and opportunities, but I've turned them down. I wasn't ready to go back, in fact I'm still not ready to go back. I want to remember what was, and not what is. I don't want to be disappointed that she's not there. I mean I know she's not there, but I just don't want to be disappointed about it again. I don't want to feel safe again, and I don't want to feel like I'll always have San Antonio. Because the truth is, I might not be, and I probably won't. And that might be cynical, but it's the truth. I'm not a child anymore and I don't want to confuse myself with delusions that won't come true. So I've never gone back, because I said I never would.

If you know me at all, you'll realize that I'm usually wrong about these things. I'll be leaving for San Antonio on Friday. And I will probably be disappointed that she's not there, and I'll probably feel like there is no safe haven for me. But I could be wrong about the last part....I might always have San Antonio after all.

Miles to go before I sleep

Sometimes all it takes is a conversation with a great friend, to let you know that yes; you've come so far, but you still have so far to go.

Keeping this untitled

You won't know who this is about, but you're not supposed to. To be honest I'm not even sure who it's about. All I know is the summer sun is setting, and the flag is at half mast. I'm loosing something that was never really mine, but just borrowed for some time. I'm missing out, and falling away. And it's your fault.

Alone all fucking weekend

Usually I hate being alone. I have social withdraws and end up hanging out with people I really don't like. But this weekend the family is gone, and it's heaven. I can walk around the house naked! (Not that I would, but it's nice to know the option is available.) I can make sugar cookies at midnight! (Okay, I actually did this one tonight, and they were wonderful.) I can watch three Chuck Norris movies in a row! (This one was hysterical.) I can drink an entire twelve pack of mountain dew! (And my soon to be bladder infection thanks me kindly.)

Go Now, Please.

OK, If you don't "do" musicals then I guess you probably won't get this...but let me tell you that if you do get musicals you absolutely must see "HairSpray" the music is amazing, the acting is wonderful, and the story is powerful and fun. I absolutely loved it.

I don't get excited about movies...so you know this one is worth it. Go see it now.

Basically Nothing

I got a new job today, that shit is exciting. Beyond that my life hasn't been all that much except for my amazing date with the love of my life the other night. You know who the hell you are. I think you're right...we should get married.

Also, if you love life download "Good Morning Baltimore" by Niki Blonsky. (It's from the musical HairSpray which I'll admit, I haven't seen but I fucking love this song)

Who I am

Apparently this is who I am... Advanced Global Personality Test Results Extraversion |||||||||||||||| 70% Stability |||||||||||| 43% Orderliness |||||| 30% Accommodation |||||||||||| 50% Interdependence |||||||||||||||| 63% Intellectual |||||| 23% Mystical |||||||||||||| 56% Artistic |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Religious |||||||||||||| 56% Hedonism |||||||||||||||||| 76% Materialism |||||||||||| 50% Narcissism |||||||||||| 50% Adventurousness |||||||||||||| 56% Work ethic |||||| 30% Self absorbed |||||||||||||||||| 76% Conflict seeking |||||| 30% Need to dominate |||||||||||||||| 70% Romantic |||||||||||||||||| 76% Avoidant |||||||||||||||| 70% Anti-authority |||||||||||||||| 70% Wealth |||||||||||| 50% Dependency |||||||||||||||||||| 83% Change averse |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Cautiousness |||||||||||||||| 63% Individuality |||||||||||||||||| 76% Sexuality |||||||||||||| 56% Peter pan complex |||||||||||||||| 70% Physical security |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Physical Fitness |||| 17% Histrionic |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Paranoia |||||||||||||||||||| 83% Vanity |||||||||||||||| 63% Hypersensitivity |||||||||||||||||||| 90% Indie |||||||||| 38%

Take Free Advanced Global Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

A Good Day

It was a good day. A boring day, but a good day all the same. I finished reading Harry Potter and The Deatlhly Hallows (for the nights adventures in obtaining a copy look no further than Kelli's photo representation of the occasion) for the second time. My favorite on America's Next Food Network Star won. I made spaghetti. The lights went off for forty minutes, and I stayed in last nights pajama pants all day long. I didn't talk to anyone, and I didn't see anyone. I was a little depressed today, but a little happy too. Sometimes it's good to be a paradox of emotions. It doesn't make sense most of the time, to be both happy and upset at once but it feels so right.

Keep It Personal

I've been writing a lot of posts recently, and not posting any of them. I prefer to save them as drafts and release them when I don't still have the fiery conviction of the words in me. I'd rather post them after it's all passed. I guess there are some things that are better saved just for me.

I don't know if you know this or not, but I complain a lot. I bitch, and whine, and moan about unfair things, and things that are out of my control. I say a lot of things, not all of them fair or true, but still important to me. I'm not innocent, and I never said I was. I never claimed to be, I did just as much as you did. Maybe things that weren't as bad in my eyes, but still I did them and I don't deny it. But look, we're far past the point of recconcilliation, and I haven't been talking about it at all recently, so why are you? Why write your doubled edged poetry and pretend that it doesn't reference me all through it? Why do that? Just be upfront. Be blunt if you want to but, at least have the courtesy to say what you mean, if you mean what you say. I have said it from the start, I don't want to reconcile, I don't regret anything I said or did. It's over now and has been for a while. I won't pretend that I'm not worried about you because I am. But that's


FUCK IT.

Harry Potter

I finished it in seven hours.

I beat you Kelli.

I'm going to do my best now to tell you something you probably have already guesse

I do this far too often

I changed the header, yet again in case you hadn't noticed. I decided that it's unbecoming to have a pictures of yourself all over your website. So now we have a header without a graphic representation of yours truly. I also updated the template and such, as well as put a poll on the side to see some reaction over the changes. I expect all three of you that read this website to hop to it.

HARRYPOTTERHARRYPOTTERHARRYPOTTER

How fucking excited am I about the seventh book?

God damn.

Friday5 Week 3

I'm sorry I haven't been posting this week as my internet usage as been very erratic. My connection has been slow and shitty at best, and completely not functioning at worst. So bear with me updates may come slowly in the coming days. Now I leave you with this weeks Friday5.

Friday5 Week 3:

1. What’s a gross food you like anyway?
I would have to say that most chineese food looks utterly disgusting but tastes amazing. So I guess that.

2 Who’s an unlikeable person you like anyway?
In real life, there are a lot of them. But I don't want to offend anyone so I won't name any names. But I will say that the unlikeable celebrity that I like anyways would have to be Paris Hilton. I mean I know as a self respecting American I am supposed to hate her and everything she stands for but I just can't. She seems cool, I mean maybe you wouldn't want to be her best friend but she'd be the kind of girl you could make out with and not have to worry about anyone's feelings, or you know get the latest gossip from her. All in all I kind of love her.

3. What’s an unpleasant task you enjoy performing anyway?
Cleaning my bedroom. Even though I almost never do it just because of the sheer amount of crap that I have kept over the years. I love doing it because I love organizing my crap and finding things from years and years ago that I completely forgot I had. Like old notes, and letters, and birthday cards, and journals, and such. I love looking back on my youth.

4. What’s a dumb song you enjoy anyway?
I don't listen to Emo, melancholy music so pretty much everything I listen to is shallow and dumb but I love it anyway.

5. What’s a lousy restaurant you frequent anyway?
This Chinese restaurant called "Great Wall" the food is amazing, and the servers don't speak much English so they don't bother you at all. But I have a feeling that the place is actually disgusting in the kitchen and they're actually serving me dog. I'm not trying to be racist or anything it's just a suspicion I have. But I can't help it that shit whether it be canine or not is fucking awesome.

My Name Is

Last night as I was meeting with an old friend, I realized how many names I used to have in my life. You probably would never think about it, but I realized how many names come and go. There's that girl who used to be your best friend but things got marred and ugly, and now you don't use her name anymore. There's that boy who you used to share everything with, and said his name about a million times a day. That boy's name only crosses your lips now when you wonder out loud how is life is turning out. The names are still familiar, but the faces and the feelings, seem to float away. I used to have too many names in my life. So many names that it seemed like my name got lost in the midst. With shrugging glances of "Oh, him? That's Jordan." But eventually I decided to do away with a lot of those names, and just cut back down to the basics. And now it seems as if I'm just surrounded by a few names. They aren't as plentiful, but they mean a lot more to me. And if I had to put a name on my current mental state I would call it "Okay."

Friday5 Week 2

Welcome to the second week of Friday5. I skipped last week, so sorry about all that.

1. Given as a percentage, approximately what are the chances that there is a french fry somewhere in your car? If you do not own a car, what are the chances that there is a french fry somewhere in the car you most frequently ride in?
I just cleaned out my car about a week ago, so there probably aren't any in it right now. But when I did clean it out I found an entire bag of uneaten fries, and half of a burrito from Taco Bell. So under normal circumstances: 100%

2. Given as a percentage, approximately what are the chances that you will eat ice cream sometime in the next four days?
70%

3. Given as a percentage, approximately what are the chances that you’ll get a personal, handwritten greeting in the mail sometime in the next week?
0%, all I get are bills and credit card applications that I don't want. And my birthday was a month ago, so no cards. :(

4. Given as a percentage, approximately what are the chances that there will be rain in your neighborhood within the next forty-eight hours?
100%

5. Given as a percentage, approximately what are the chances that in the next twenty-four hours, you will be in the same room as a naked person other than yourself?
I live in an open house, everyone in it (other than me, who has a sense of modesty) is naked all the time. So more than likely this will happen. 75%

The History of Sex

So my father was sleeping on the couch, as he usually does. And the t.v. was on and blaring at it usually does. The History channel was tuned in, as it usually is. I was on the computer as I almost always am. There was a program on, as there usually is, but this time it was different. This time it was entitled "The History of Sex" which it usually isn't. I'm barely listening to it, as I usually do, and bits and pieces reach my ears. But then suddenly something happens. Something terrible, but amazing. This was said, and I quote:

"In the Victorian ages, all men were aroused by anything that could be considered a "limb". This included tables which had "legs". And this is why table skirts were created in this age to stop men from being tempted to have sexual intercourse with their furniture."

I shit you not, they actually said that. I need not tell you how giddy this made me.

Can Someone Just Please Tell Me Why?

I along with several million other children of the eighties and nineties have very fond memories of the cartoon "Alvin and the Chipmunks. Hollywood is now trying their best to rape those fond memories up the ass...I present you this:
























If that doesn't ruin your holiday season, I don't know what possibly could.

NEW HEADER

Thank God, I was getting tired of the old one.

Comment if you like it.

If you were like me, you'd be better at creating problems, than solving them. You woul make a bigger mess every time you tried to clean something up. Everytime

Not

It makes me so sad that some people have to fight so hard to be happy. And others just get what they want. It's not fair.

Heads Up

I promise that this month's "Hot Shit of the Month" will be posted before the end of the month. It just seems that Jordan can't find any thing suitable for "Jordan's Hot Shit of The Month" as soon as I do though I'll let you know.

43 things

These are the fourty three things that I want to accomplish in my life as of now.


What are your fourty three things?

Friday 5 Week One

Everybody's doing it, and since I don't have a single original thought of my own, I thought I'd do it as well. So welcome to the first week of Friday5 :


1.If you get the first choice of Monopoly tokens, which do you choose? If someone else chooses it first, which is your second choice?
The car absolutely, just because it's so phallic and stupid looking. It's so "Oh yeah like I'm going to believe a car with a hood the size of Montana is going to be able to run correctly." My second choice is the shoe.

2.What’s a board game you are especially bad at?
To be honest usually Monopoly, because I get all into it in the beginning, and I've got all this fake colored money. And then eventually I get bored and just start giving it all away to whomever I'm playing with. Which let me tell you isn't good for fake business.

3.What board game are you particularly good at?
The game of Life. But only the cardboard and plastic one, that other one I'm pretty much sucking at so far.

4.How competitive do you get while playing board games or party games?
Depends on who I'm playing. If I'm playing with my grandmother (which happens more often than I'd like to admit), not competitive because when she loses she's mean, and I try to make that never happen.

5.What’s your favorite board game? What’s a board game you can’t stand?
I love scrabble, even though I'm not really good at it. I cannot stand Clue, or Risk, or Parcheesi, ew.

Did it ever occur to you that maybe inside, I'm still freaking out? Did it ever occur to you that I might still be reeling from the fact that I had nearly killed myself for four years doing everything to be a good firend for you. And then one dday, you decided that

To write, or not to write?

I read a post at Red Brick Everything today which made me think. When I started Postarita, I never thought about it as my own personal journal. I just wanted a new site to write on. I never considered writing my deepest darkest emotions and have them read by the wide world inter web, on a regular basis. But I have, and people do, on a regular basis (in fact almost 900 hits, in the last two months!). Which brings me to the question, am I getting too personal? Should I leave well enough alone, and save something for myself? Am I wrong to write public letters on here for friends, and ex-friends of mine to read at their own leisure? Am I wrong to write exactly how I'm feeling and let people read it rather than just writing it for myself, or not writing at all and just keep it to myself? Comments are open people, I need opinions.

Bare my soul, and keep writing my feelings?
or
Keep it to my damn self?

Remember that which you don't write, no one can hold against you. I've learned that one the hard way folks.

Why can't you?

This is a list of "Why can't you?" questions to a bunch of people in my life. All people will remain anonymous you know who you are.

Why can't you just grow up?
Why can't you move on?
Why can't you let me move on?
Why can't you stop being such a immature son of a bitch? (Hint!, Hint!)
Why can't you let things go?
Why can't you mind your own fucking business?
Why can't you stop pretending I'm this awful person, when you know I'm not?
Why can't you stop calling so fucking much? (No, seriously on this one)

My Own Holiday

Is it possible for Father's Day, make you actually want to become a father? I can't wait until I become a Dad, I don't care if I have to knock up a complete stranger, or become a sperm doner. I just need to know that there's someone out there more important to me than myself. I need to have that one person who means more to me then the world. Also I would like a holiday completely dedicated to me. Much for the same reasons that as a child I couldn't understand why my birthday wasn't premarked in ever calender sold in North America. Come to think of it, I still can't understand why that's not happening.

Late Nights and Bad Jokes.

We at two o clock in the am see a truck leaving it's house. Conversation ensues.

I: "Two O clock, and he's just leaving...I think someone's going to get himself a prostitute."
He: "Maybe two"
I: "What does a man do with two prostitutes at once?"
He: "The same thing with the first one only twice"


Badaching!

Colors of the fucking wind.

Color me pissed the fuck off.

Imagine all the people gouging out their ear canals.

I'm not sure if you know or not but some record label has decided to make a tribute cd to John Lennon. Other artists will sing his songs and all proceeds will go to some charity that I'm sure I've never heard of. I would post a link but I can't remember the name of it to look it up, and let's be honest none of you are going to buy it anyway.

But anyhow, when creating this cd I imagine that they created a committee that would decide the artists and the songs that they would cover which would create the best John Lennon tribute album in the history of all time. I'm pretty sure it wasn't that hard, seeing as how I'm pretty sure this might be the only John Lennon Tribute album ever recorded anyway. However someone on the committee decided that the song "Imagine" should be covered, which let's be honest is the only John Lennon song that pretty much anyone knows anyway (unless it's from the Beatles which doesn't count because no one can ever remember who wrote which songs in that band anyways, I'm a McCartney fan so I attribute them all to him.) So Imagine is a good choice, it's a great choice, and it would be a great song to cover if they picked the right artist. But they did not pick the right artist. As far as I'm concerned M.C. Hammer would have made a better choice than the person they chose to cover a beautiful song about world peace. Conversation in the boardroom ensued:

Committee Chairman: "So you guys, who should cover "Imagine"? It should be someone with a strong voice, and a strong sense of what the song means so that he or she can really sell the meaning. We would never want to pick someone that would make a mockery of such a beautiful song. Any suggestions?

Committee Member: "How about Avril Lavigne?, I hear she doesn't like my girlfriend."

Committee Chairman: "That's fucking perfect!"


Conversation ends.

So yes, that's right ladies and gentlemen, they let Avril Lavinge cover one of the most beautiful songs ever written. If you would like to hear the holocaust to the ears that is Mrs. Lavigne's rendition feel free to click below. Although never say I didn't give you proper warning.


Avril Lavigne- Imagine

Editors Note: I actually almost, sort of, kinda like Avril Lavinge, but I also love "Imagine" much more and I won't albeit the mistreating of it.

Rememberance

Marilyn Anne Barrow
June 14th 2005.

And I still miss you.

Oy Ve.

Her: "What's a Yeti?"
Me: "It's like Bigfoot."
Her: "Oh...I thought it had something to do with being Jewish."
Me: "Thats it, you are no longer allowed to watch reruns of "Yentil" on ABC Family."

Envy me.

Tomorrow I have an interview for a job I desperately want. This job is a dream job. Really good money, and almost no work. I don't think you all comprehend how much I like "no work". This job is perfect for me. I would love to make a lot of money and sit and do nothing but listen to my ipod and call people on my cell phone...and get this....the job I'm applying for actually lets you do that! This is a great, great thing. Which just goes to prove that great things happen to people who sit on their ass and complain about their lives. Just look at me I'm the American Dream.

Drafted

I wrote a huge post just now that was basically me being the whiny emotional trainwreck that I am. But instead I just saved it as a draft so I could spare you all the bore.


You are so very welcome.

I had a fun idea, that I thought I would share with all of you. I'm sorry to say but I'm going to create one of my very own tag surveys. You know the kind where you post some inane "soundtrack of your life!, or twenty things you love!, or nine pe

To Whom It May Concern

When I write angsty Dear John, letters on my blog I like to be as ambiguous as possible. I like for the people who actually know me not to be able to tell whether or not I'm writing about them or not. Let's just get this straight, if you think it's about you it probably is. If you have a guilty conscience, then you already know what you did. I don't have to repeat myself over and over. But I'm going to anyways. This one won't be so ambiguous because it talks about specific events that a specific someone will know all about. So here it goes.



I want to say thank you for calling me today. I know you probably didn't want to, but I also think you thought it was the right thing to do. And that shows me that maybe just maybe you might be actually growing up. I don't want to hold my breath or anything, but you never know stranger things have occurred. I also want to thank you for making small talk with me for a few minutes. For a few moments it almost seemed like old times. Maybe it wasn't a ruined friendship maybe it was just a two month vacation that I never booked for myself. But either way, it was nice. But what I'm about to say is not. You said you'd call back, and I don't expect you too, more so I'm not sure that I want you too. I know that sounds bad, and childish maybe but I just don't think I can put myself through that again. I can't talk to you, and hope that maybe just maybe you would "forgive me" for something no one but you is even sure I'm guilty of. I don't want to have those short awkward conversations that lead into hanging out, that lead into drunken phone calls in the middle of the night, that lead into hurt feelings and me being left out. I can't do that again, so I'd rather that you just don't. Just do me a favor and spare me the drama.

That being said it was nice to hear your voice, and it was nice to know that you're not spiraling out of control or anything. I want you to know that even though our friendship didn't work out, I really do wish you the best. I really do hope you find love, and happiness, and lots of new Britney Spears material. I really do (although the Britney Spears thing is just as much for me as it is you.) I wish you no ill, and maybe one day we can have a conversation about what went wrong, but that day can't be today. And it can't be tomorrow or sometime next month. It has to be on my terms, and it has to be when I'm ready, and to be honest I'm not sure I ever will be. But that being said, if ever there comes a time in your life when you can't trust anyone, and you have no one to turn to, you can talk to me. And even if we're not talking then, you can call me up and I'll do my best to help you through. It's what I know how to do, and I'll do it again to the best of my abilities. You are one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to me. I can credit you with changing me a lot, some for the better some for the worse. You can make me laugh like no one can. And I miss that, I hope you know. I know I'm just rambling on and on now, but some times these things are like a stream of conscience. Once you get your fingers to the keys you're never really sure of what may or may not come out. I hope you don't get angered or anything of the like when you read this because it wasn't my intention at all. I just needed to let you know some things, and I couldn't think of any other way to say them. But I guess what I really want to say is thank you. So thanks.



Hope you're well,

Jordan

I've picked the weeds, but kept the flowers.

I have always been a firm believer that if you think positively, the outcome will be positive. If you try to be happy, eventually you'll convince yourself that you are. So that's exactly what I've always done. I've always "I'm fine'd" everyone to death. I've always smiled and never looked anyone in the eye, and I'm tired of living this way. I'm tired of saying one thing, but feeling another. I'm not trying to say that I'm in a depression or anything, because that definitely isn't the case. But I feel like for the past three or four years something has just been missing from my life. So I friend hop, and I job hop, and I do bad things looking for the one thing I feel like I'm missing, and I never find it, and I'm tired of searching.

I'm tired of saying "yes" when I feel like saying "no"; I'm tired of just living my life, when I want to be living out my dreams. I'm tired of being who you want me to be, when you want me to be it, and where you want me to be at. I just turned twenty one years old today, I am supposed to be a grown man, but instead I just feel like a boy. A boy who's not always sure of himself, a boy who doesn't always know what exactly it is that he wants. A boy who still hasn't got it figured all out yet. And that scares the shit out of me. I'm twenty one, aren't things supposed to be clear to me by now? What to I have to do? Do I need to start going to church? Do I need to stop cussing and smoking so much? Do I need to renounce Britney Spears? Look, I might be willing to do all of those (except maybe the Britney Spears thing), if it would mean that I would know my place in the world. All I'm looking for is a sign, an answer. Anything really. And I'm hoping someone out there can give it to me.

Editor's Note: I'm also tired of people berrating me for my over and incorrect use of commas and semicolons. If you happen to have a problem with either of the abformentioned grammatical errors, fuck off.

I like the word influx

For some reason in the last twenty four hours Postarita has received an influx of visitors. Maybe it's a birthday present?

Either way make sure to leave some comments bitches.

Growing Down

As most of us know my birthday is fast approaching only hours away in fact. And things much be changing for me because I just for the first time ever willingly drank a glass of iced tea. Without forced durres, do you people get the severity of this decision? I am growing up I'm telling you. I am fucking growing up.

Full House

Her: "So I was watching a rerun of E.R. today, and did you know they let John Stamos on that show?"
Me: "I've never seen an epsiode of E.R. ever. But Uncle Jesse really? The one with the mullet? Would you really let him cut into you?"
Her: "Better him than Uncle Joey."

An illness

Do you suffer from Beyonceitis?

This is some funny shit. Excerpt:
"Ashanti:
Before Beyonceitis crippled her, Ashanti enjoyed a brief period as "The Princess of Hip-Hop Soul", which was an easy title to achieve mainly because:
1. There was no other artists to dispute her at the time.
2. Her record label gave her the title. "

All things right themselves in time.

Today I was thinking how often things come full circle for me. Bad things that I messed up further, eventually work themselves out. Someone you love turns into someone you hate, who in turn morphs back into someone you love again. It's funny how it happens when you just leave things alone and let them happen in their own time.

Another lesson learned.

Soundtrack of my life

Okay, unlike Kelli, I actually always do these things...I'm pathetic.

IF YOUR LIFE WAS A MOVIE, WHAT WOULD THE SOUNDTRACK BE?
So, here's how it works:
1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every question, type the song that's playing
5. When you go to a new question, press the next button
6. Don't lie and try to pretend you’re cool...

Opening Credits: "Tell Me Something Good" -Pink

Waking Up: "Stuck"- Stacie Orrico...no way the first line of the song is "I can't get out of bed today" that's fucking awesome.

First Day Of School:"Extraordinary"- Mandy Moore

Falling In Love: "Sunday Kind of Love"- Etta James. No fucking way, that's awesome.

Fight Song:"This Ain't A Scene, It's An Arms Race"- Fall Out Boy

Breaking Up:" How Does It Feel To Be Free"- Reba Mcentire. No Joke, I don't even know the fucking song it's just in my library because it's Reba. That's fucking weird.

Prom:"Fidelity"- Regina Spektor

Mental Breakdown: "Can't Touch This" MC Hammer. Haha.

Driving: "Pachabel's Canon in D Major"-Bach

Flashback:"Ruby SoHo" Rancid

Getting Back Together:"It Matters To Me" Faith Hill

Wedding: "I love Rock and Roll" Joan Jett. (This happens to be appropriate because just yesterday I was telling someone how I want to have a Rock and Roll Vegas style wedding where I rapel in from a balcony to a song of my choice, and then instead of me and my bride walking back down the aisle after the ceremony I want us to be able to disappear in a ball of smoke. Like fucking magic)

Birth Of Child:"Ray of Light"-Madonna (Okay so I kind of cheated on this one, because it is about a birth)

Final Battle: "Hooker"-Pink

Killing Bad Dude: "Bye, Bye, Bye" - Nsync (Dude I didn't even know I still had this. I reall gotta clean out my music)

Victory Song:"Happy" - Saving Jane

End Credits:" Redneck Woman" Gretchen Wilson. Well that's just fucking perfect.

I would tag some people but no one that I know reads this fucking thing.

The Birthing Season Approaches

I turn twenty one on Tuesday in case you were wondering. If you feel like you're going to be busy that day, you can go ahead and wish me a happy birthing season now. Go ahead.

Up.

Things are looking up. I've just recently made up with one of my best friends. (In relation to that note, if the other three of you are reading this site: fuck off.) My sister is graduating in two days. I'm still currently unemployed, but really who's trying to wallow in the misery here?

EDITORS NOTE: Happy 100th post to Postarita.

WE AIN'T GOT NONE

So I finally figured out that I need to move out of my parents house. Now before you all start on me that I'm twenty years old and still living at home, and am more than likely a pathetic individual, let me just go ahead and tell you that all of that is true. So, we don't need to argue about it okay? However, I've never wanted to move out as much as I did the other morning, when after not coming home untill four o clock in the morning, and stumbling into bed at around sixish, I was awoken at eight. Now normally I wouldn't wake up under my own vollition at such an ungodly hour, so the question arrises, what would make a boy suddenly awake at such a ridiculous time? Did his alarm go off? Did he have to pee? No, none of those are the answers. The answer is that my mother decided that eight in the morning was the perfect time to clean my room. Even though I neither needed or wanted a clean room, she decided that it was a fine idea. Cleaning my room consisted of beating a broom against my bed liberally for no apparent reason, and throwing all of my most prized shit away for again no apparent reason. This woman has no method to her madness. It fucking pissed me off. Well that's pretty much the whole story, but I think I'll ramble on and and on for a few moments while I have your attention.

Did I mention that someone crazed person found my site by searching for "vag-jay-jay"? Although I think this is a wonderful word and fully plan on utilizing it daily; I still don't see the need for looking it up on the interweb. So tell me person who found my site by searching for "vag-jay-jay", what exactly did you come hear hoping to find? Pictures of celebrity vagina perhaps? Well I hate to dissapoint but we ain't got none of that here. So sorry to upset you.

A Postarita by any other name:

I would just like to say that I was watching my all time favorite tv program tonight: "The Soup". And on it, he used the word vag-jay-jay. I'm assuming this is another word for cunt. Anyways I'd just like to say that vag-jay-jay, is my new favorite word. In fact I considered changing the name of my blog to "Vag-jay-jay" for about ten minutes. Until I realized someone might just call it "Vag-gay-gay" and since I'm not gay; that just wouldn't be good.


EDITORS NOTE:

I would just like to point out that in the coming months if you ever see a one liner posts with the word "DISCUSS" under it, all this means is that I sent a one liner text message to my blog via my cell phone, and I plan on elaborating on the post later once I get to my computer. This is not a discussion prompt for you to leave comments. Oh, what am I talking about? You people don't know how to leave comments. Silly me.

Quoted

So today me and my sister were watching one of those inane decorating shows on HGTV, and this crazy blonde bitch with a insane chin moke, started talking about her basement. She said that she couldn't wait to redo her basement into a game room. Conversation ensued.

Marilyn: Why would she make a game room out of a basement? It doesn't have any windows! It's completely dark down there! Instead she should make a nap room.
Me: A nap room?
Marilyn: Yes because some people like to play games, and some people like to take naps. If that was our house it would have to be a nap room, we're nap people.

Happy saturday! Dont ask me why theres just only so many things a boy can blog from his phone.

Actually hold up.

I just realized I really fucking love my new header. It's breathtaking. Let's all take a moment and bask in it's glory, shall we?

AHHH.

Feelings.

Sometimes it's good to take a step back from reality. Sometimes it's good to take a step back and find something you once enjoyed and pick it up again. Sometimes it's good to see where you came from, and how far you've come, even if you don't always know where it is exactly that you're going. Sometimes you just got to give things a chance. Sometimes certain people just bring out the best in me, and I love that. I love feeling like me. When I feel like I'm funny, or entertaining, or worthwhile I feel invincible. I feel unstoppable. I feel like Jordan, and there is no better feeling in the world than that.

New Header

Yet again, I got bored with the old one.

All I need for you to do is...

Admit you're wrong.

Because you know you are.

Pretty much says it all.

Sometimes life is just so fucking fucked up.

Hot Shit of The Month: Month Two

Welcome back to the second installment of "Jordan's Hot Shit of the Month", where Jordan tells you what is hot, and you all rush out to either download it, buy it, or have sex with it, immediately. So without further ado, let the hot shit begin.

Jordan's Hot Shit Song Pick of the Month:
Melee "You Make My Dreams Come True

from the album "Devils and Angels"

Jordan's Hot Shit Website Pick of the Month:

The Superficial

For all your pop culture needs. Whether it be topless pictures of Britney Spears, or tales of the rich, famous, and infinitely stupid, The Superficial has it all.

Jordan's Hot Shit T Shirt Pick of the Month:

FREE PARIS TEE.

Jordan's Hot Shit Friend Pick of the Month:

As some of you may know, I've been having some friend problems as of late, the problem being that I don't have any.

Well that's not exactly true, it's just that the number has gone down significantly in the last month. Anyways this month's winner has really pulled through for me. So congratulations to our winner: BRYANT.

Well that's pretty much it for the hot shit of the month of May. Tune in during June which most of you might know is the birthing season to see what hot shit I got that makes the list.

Quotable

"It's not the many in your life. It's the life in your many"- Mae West. (I have to be honest I don't know exactly who she is. But I think I loved her.

New Header

Enjoy bitches.

I used to.

I used to have some friends who I loved. I loved to see them laugh, and to make them laugh. I used to like our hours of conversation on the telephone. I used to cherish things, and I used to believe in friendship that lasts forever. And I used to believe that I would always feel that way. I don't think I feel that way anymore. I used to be a punching bag, and a sad excuse. I used to be a walking joke, and a free therapist. I used to be a call away and a "Hey drop the rest of your life and pay attention to me" kind of person. I used to be tried and true, loyal to the core. I used to think I'd never be alright if something happened. But that is who I used to be. I'm not the same person that I used to be. I'm not that person who will run back to you when you change your mind. I'm not that person who forgives and forgets. I'm not that person who can put the past behind me and move on with our lives and a new friendship. I'm just not that Jordan anymore. But I used to be, and you took that away from me. And for that I will never forgive you.

So excited.

The bitch is back.

Sometimes.

Sometimes I'm an emotional wreck. And then some other times I'm just a complete trainwreck. Sometimes its as if everyone else is moving at ten times the speed of me, and I'm just trying to catch up. Sometimes I hate it.

Hot Shit of the Month: Month One

I've decided that tradition is an important thing. So I'm starting one right now with Postarita. I am proud to introduce you to a monthly series of blogs I like to call "The Hot Shit of the Month According to Jordan"

In this post I like to tell you what I think is the best shit out there. And you should listen, because really I know my shit.

Jordan's hot shit book pick of the month:

"Looking for Alaska" by John Green

Jordan's hot shit album of the month:

"Dignity" by Hilary Duff

Jordan's hot shit food pick of the month:

Grilled Honey Mustard Snack Wraps by Mcdonalds

Jordan's hot shit song pick of the month:

"Umbrella" by Rhianna featuring Jay Z

And to be honest thats all of the hot shit I can think of right now, but stay tuned next month for the next part of "The Very Best Shit According to Jordan"

Oh, that's hot.

Apparently I can now blog straight from my phone. I don't really see this as ever being any useful but it's still pretty hot. Now I can forward dirty text messages from my phone directly to my site!

Also in the next hour or so will be the first set in a continuing series of posts here at Postarita. Stay tuned.

Lets get this shit up and running baby
jordan

For your reading enjoyment

So it's kindof late, and my body is full of antibiotics fighting the raging infection inside my body (but that's another post so I won't get into it.) And as I type this my dad is on the couch snoring me into oblivion while the Discovery Channel blares in the background. Apparently he was watching something which I like to call "People Who Got In Tragic Accidents, and Actually Survived!" I'm not sure if this is the actual title or not but it's pretty fitting. From what I can tell by just vaguely listening to it it's about some stupid guys who for whatever reason did these stupid things and then got all of these stupid injuries and somehow lived to tell their tale on some cheap Discovery Channel doccumentary. My favorite is the one guy who in his plane tried to do what I can only describe as a herky (cheerleading reference!) in an airplane. Believe it or not he crashed his plane into a crowd of onlookers. Well maybe that last part isn't true, he actually landed in the same parking lot as the onlookers however. Apparently he then went on to catch himself on fire, break both his legs, five ribs, and crush his skull among other things. Although as the Discovery Channel has just let me know thankfully there were no internal injuries (Thank God, I was holding my breath on that one). AHe went to the hopsital and then yadda yadda yadda he lived.

I don't know what the point of typing that was but I just felt like it needed to be shared.

I'm sorry I haven't been writing much lately. It seems you have nothing to write about if you're going to die alone and have no one to love you.


That's just the way it is. You wouldn't understand, I'm sure you're probably dating someone.

A Jordan by any other name would just sound stupid...

So, I've been training at my new job right? And apparently Jordan isn't a common name or something, because so far I've been called every thing but my actual name. I've been called buddy, man, dude, guy, and my personal favorite: boss. My name is Jordan, nothing less nothing more. I'm not your buddy, I'm not your dude, I'm not your friend. I'm Jordan, and you can call me as such, and if you'd rather not then don't call me anything, make my life less stupid and just leave me alone. Although even though I hate being called anything other than my actual name, I don't mind the whole "boss" thing so bad. I am your boss bitch, bow down. Bow Down.

I'm Ready To Be Extraordinary

Just when I think my life is becoming somewhat stable again. New job, less drama, more time with people I love more than anything in the world. Britney Spears has to go shave her head and put herself in rehab. If you know me at all, you know that I have perhaps an unhealthy addiction to anything and everything Britney Spears. I want her to release music, and dance, and do backflips, and stop having babies, and maybe stop drinking, but most of all I just want her to be happy. Like I said, if you know me at all, you know my dreams, and you know my aspirations. Well Britney Spears is like the pinnacle to me, the lowly hometown girl who had a dream, who made it happen who let it get to her, who had things happen to her that she didn't plan on. I don't want that to ever be me. I dont' want to wake up one day and wonder how the hell I got there. I want to know what my life will turn out like instead of all this damn uncertainty all the time. And I guess at the end of the day all of that cluelessness and restlessness and sleepless nights, are what make life, life. But to me it would just be easier to know what's coming up, to what's going on, to see the bigger picture instead of the tiny snapshots of yesterday and today, and last week. I want to know that I'll fall in love, and be successful, and be blessed with all the things that make a otherwise ordinary life, extraordinary. I am ready to be extraordinary, I don't think I can just exsist anymore. I have to BE. I have to be something better than just me.

Wishes

I'm the kind of boy who runs from his problems. I duck and I hide. I break up with people when I think it's getting hard, I stop talking to friends when we get into an argument. I ignore my own problems in hopes that they will all go away. I now wish that I knew how to be different. Now that my whole world feels like it's collapsing in on my head I wish I knew how to stand up and change, to stand up and fight, instead of just running away, acting like that scared little child that deep down I still am.

I just wish I was different.