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.

A Modest Proposal

Today I made my first credit card purchase, I guess that's a milestone. But to be honest I would have rather it had not happened. I just spent three hundred dollars on four brand new tires that I don't even want. Let me drive that home to you, three hundred dollars is enough to by so many more things that are more necessary to sustain life for instance you could buy a brand new beagle puppy for fifty dollars less than it costs for four brand new tires. You could buy a sparkling new ipod, or alternatively you could stay two nights in a fabulous hotel suite in the Orlando Florida Hilton Hotel. You could even buy a night of passionate love from yours truly (before taxes of course).
All these things asside however, I've come with a solution to our biggest problem: money. We need to get rid of all money and go back to the bartering system. But, instead of trading with scraps of metal or our virgin daughters I think we should barter with important things; like love. For instance I'm sure that there is someone in this world who had four perfectly good tires for a ninety six jeep cherokee, that they would have been more than willing to give me for either a year of friendship or a week of passionate sex. I'd be willing to do either if it means that I don't have to pay three hundred dollars for some motherfucking tires.

Pretty much the worst weekend of my life (so far)

I don't have enough energy to actually write in complete sentences, so from here on out, I will write a list of awful things that happened thus far.

Was forced to wake up at three o clock to go to work on Black Friday
Was cussed out by very rude customers at "Great Purchase"
Went fourteen hours straight without eating
Got in a car accident , involving me, and an unsuspecting ditch.
Told I was irresponsible, and the bain of my family's exsistence.
Told I was a role model for younger people, and that I needed to change my lifestyle to accomodate them. Fuck that.

Okay, you should see this.

Just for the record I love Paris Hilton. I just think it's really funny to hear Lindsay Lohan say anything derrogatory about anyone else. Especially when it involves the word "cunt"

New Header

Compliments of yours truly, enjoy and shit.

Yeah I stole this

I stole this from Her, who stole it from this person who I've never met.

Instructions:Write 10 statements to 10 different people.Never tell which one is for who.

1.I wish we talked more, but sometimes it's easier just not to call, because I don't like hearing about your life when it doesn't involve me.

2. I don't call or write you, because the air surrounding our ruined frienship is too fragile, too stale. It seems like nothing has been spoken between us, but everythings already been said.

3. Sometimes I fear I might use you as an emotional crutch

4. I can't help but say most of the time I really don't like you, I just tolerate you because everyone says that I have to.

5. I love you, but it seems like the only time we're close is when we're pissed off about something.

6. I really just don't know what we are anymore.

7. Sometimes I think about calling you just to see what's up, but then I remember that I'm not allowed to do that.

8. You are perfect in your own way, I like seeing how you turn out. You always surprise me.

9. I think a new career is in order, I hope that you find everything you're looking for.

10. I love you for everything you are, and aren't.


Okay, done. I'll give you a hint. The last one is about myself, or maybe it's about Britney Spears. I really don't recall.

Happy Birthday Postarita

On this very day one year ago. I created Postarita on a whim. One year ago today I was in a dark time in my life. I was uprooted, single, and losing faith. Now one year later I'm just single with no faith. I'm looking for a shaky kind of inner peace, one that I haven't found yet. Having Postarita in my life has helped me somewhat however. Here's to another year Postarita. Happy Birthday.

Postarita (N)
Poe-stah-ree-tah1. A blog to discuss the funny and thoughts of a ninteen year old boy.
2. Post as in post hurricane Rita that completely uprooted said boy for nearly two months, and nearly destroyed his home town.
3. Postarita as in if you switch it out for "Senorita" in the Justin Timberlake song of the same name, you have a catchy pop diddy.

Oh, the joys of being a ruthless bitch.

S.S.B.

Today we're going to jump right in, and talk about something very serious. An epedemic that is gripping the nation. I'm talking my friends about a little something CAlled S.S.B. Though it is not the latest craze of sexually transmitted disease or anything as gruesome, it is something troublesome. OF course I"m talking about Secret Single Behavour. Those little thigns you do when you're not dating someone, that you would never actually let someone you had feelings for, or just wanted to bone, that you actually do. You know those little quirks that you and only you alone are allowed to be knowledgeable of. I never thought I would divulge mine, at least not for all the internet to see, but I'm going to for the sake of this post. My secret single behaviour, is locking myself in my bathroom for hours at a time, and messing with my hair. I wax it up for texture, I gel it up for height, I straighted it for something different. And then when all is said and done, I wash my hair and leave the house for the day. All of my minutes of messing going unnoticed, because I never actually let anyone see me like that. So be awed, be surprised, be shocked and unhappy. These are the things that are lurking in people's closets. You all have them too. You're all just not as open with the internet as I am.

A few days ago I recieved an email from myself, courtesy of futureme.org. I didn't rememeber writing it. So it was surprise when I got it. Though I'm so glad that I did write it. It makes me realize how it's really the little things that matter. It really is. As long as I can chill out in the park with my ipod, and get excited over the latest Britney Spears, I'll be alright. As long as I stay grounded, and keep in tune with me. Things will never be that bad.

The letter:

Dear FutureMe,

I hope I haven't let you down too badly. I hope you've found love and life. I hope you're still singing, and writing, and loving everything about yourself. I hope you take the time to listen to your ipod in the park, and talk to your best friends. I hope you've lost a little weight, and grown out your hair. I hope you still read, and I hope you still love Britney Spears. I hope that everything for you is good. Most of all, I hope things keep getting even better.I love you.

Someday

One of these days, I'll start learning from mistakes. One of these days I'll stop living in the past. One of these days, I won't be affected like this. One of these days it won't still feel like a punch in the stomach, a sudden vaccum sucking all of the air out of my lungs, my heart stops beating, my eyes widen, my hands clench. I can't stop it. I can't right now. But someday I will. Someday I will.

But Jordan! Think of the employee discount!

As some of you may or may not know, last week I quit the job that I've been working at since I was eighteen years old. Although you'd be hard presseed to be able to consider it a career, it was like my home. I spent a greater majority of my time there, all my friends are still there. But last week I decided it was time to embark on something bigger and better. Alot of the things I'm about to say are probably not wise to post on the internet for fear of being dooced, but I'm cool with it.

Like I was saying as you may or may not know I now work for and I quote "The world's largest consumer electronics retailer". I will not actually cite the company by it's name but for clarities sake we'll call it "Great Purchase". I started last week, and at first I was pretty sure I loved it. Sure everyone seemed to clap a whole lot, and the pep talks and things like "There is no mountain too high, dream the impossible" being said at every possible moment was a little cumbersome. Yet all things considered I was pretty sure I was going to like it in spite of all that. The pay was great, and the benefits were even better. Sure the my co workers look a little lactose intolerant but I can deal with that too. And for the first few days everything seemed alright. I went merrirly along my way stocking cds, and dvds, and other consumer electronics that make us and I quote "The world's largest consumer electronics reatailer", and all seemed right in the world. But that was all until this week, where things hit a fever pitch.

I mentioned something casually about the constant clapping and pep talks, but I doubt I really did alot to drive home that point to you. It is a constant threat, that makes us want to pull out our hair, and punch someone squarely in the conjones. It is ever present, ever looming; the fear of having to cheer out in jubilation over a company we've only been working for a little over a week. When we get there at the beginning of our shift, we do jumping jacks, and in each interval we spell out the companies name. When we adjourn for a lunch break we are forced to "give them" the letters that spell out the name of our business. When we come back from lunch we are made to recite a cheer that not only do we have to memorize, but we will also be tested on. And God forbid we just clock out and leave at the end of our shift, heavens no. I mean how dare we want to leave when we've only been clapping for the last nine hours of our lives? How fucking dare we. So yet again, we are made to cheer just one more time before we all leave to walk ourselves into oncoming traffic hoping for the absolute worst.

To some people this situation doesn't sound that horrible. Great pay? Sign me up! Benefits and discounts out the ass? Sounds great! But if only you had to endure the constant peppiness, the incesant clapping, the ever present cheering and yelling; you too would be looking for an easy way out: death. But even all of that wasn't enough for me to truly, truly hate my job until today. The day when they thought it would be best to stop the hours upon hours of meticulous arranging and pricing merchandise. No today, we got a special treat. Today we got to sit in front of a three hundred pound man from our very important "corporate offices", and hear him talk about the joys of high deffinition television for five hours straight. Five fucking hours of pixels, and bit rates, and handing out Pez dispensers for the people who got answers to questions correct.

In case you were wondering, no I was not a recipient of a most sought after Pez dispenser. Apparently I'm not worthy of such a thing as a appendageless cartoon head attached to a plastic tube. But even after suffering such a loss, I was still in the game. Iw asn't quite ready to throw in the proverbial towel. That was until as I was trying ot make my escape at five o clock after one last round of clapping, that one of the managers came up to me and said "Jordan, we need to talk about something." Of course the first thought that came to my mind was "Oh, shit. He realized I was asleep for most of that speech about high deffinition tv, didn't he? Holy bejesus fuckballs." And just as I was trying to think of a beliveable lie for why I was asleep, he says "It's about your khakis." I look down at my Abercrombie and Fitch regulation standard issue khaki pants. Sure there are a few frayed edges at the bottom cuffs, but I kind of thought that brought a nice touch. I mean it's not like I paid for these pants to be ripped, this is all natural! You should praise me on how real I am, or something equally stupid. Then he says "Your khakis are not what "great purchase" considers khaki." I look down at the dark tan of my pants, and look back up questionly, my thoughts drifting to things such as "then what color is it dipshit?". He then says to me "Just make sure you fix the problem Jordan, remember that the impossible is possible here at "Great Purchase", I would hate to see you ruin it with the wrong uniform." He looks at me as if he doesn't even believe what he's saying and then turns around and goes back inside. The entire time I'm thinking "Look, Mister corporate, I don't fucking want your mountain. I don't fucking want you're godamned impossible possibillity or whatever the fuck you're talking about. But I do want you to realize that this is what khaki looks like in America. So take a long hard look at my supossed unkhaki colored knee; because you're about to get it up your ass."

I then went home, and instead of walking into on coming traffic like I had promised myself that I would. I sang myself a little ditty instead. You know there really is no mountain high enough. No river wide enough...

Too Much

I just got an email from some random spammer with the current tagline:

"It's okay, it is common to have problems with errections."


Okay, stop right there. Hold on buddy, don't you think this is too much too soon? I mean come on, we hardly know eachother! We've barely even met, and here you are talking specifics about your errection? Didn't your mother teach you any better?

Scheduling.

I just stepped outside a little past midnight to smoke a cigarette. As I inhaled, I noticed all the subtle beauty surrounding me. The gentle reds and tans of the hard brick wall I was leaning upon, the calm winds that tugged the ends of my unruly hair, the moon shining more brightly than I can remember in recent times. It's comforting to know that even if I'm on the outs with my best friend, and my love life is going less than spectacularly...or actually not going anywhere at all (Though, alas that is another post), that life still has simple ways of treating you to a moment that is purely, and simply just for you. And it's sad that we take so little time to appreciate it. All we have to do is show up, the world is already making the perfect moments and memories for us. And while we go about our busy lives , having arguments, and shedding tears, the world just keeps your reservation open for you for the moment you decide to take up it's offer. And I think that's a date we all need to schedule in our date books.

Short

Up date: I just dyed my hair black.

Pictures will be up soon.

That is all.

It's time for things to come full circle.

Happy Fucking Fourth.

Today I spent most of my time doing what all true Americans do on this great holiday we know as Independance Day; I sat on my ass and sold fireworks. This is fine. This is perfectly normal. What is not perfectly normal, however is the fact that this firework's stand is located in the great outdoors. If you know me at all you know that me and the outside world don't necessarily always get along. I mean sometimes we're civil to eachother, but sometimes we're downright rude bitches to one another. This is where the struggle begins me being rude to the mother earth, and the mother earth pissing all over me. Which is actually how the story begins in the first place, piss. As I stated earlier the fireworks stand is located in a giant tent in the middle of town surrounded by lots and lots of trees, but no public restroom. Whoever thought this was a bright idea, I would like to personally kill. It was eventually inevitable though I tried to hold it in for the last week that I have worked there, today on the busiest day of the year for an average fireworks stand, my bladder decided to shit out on me. So I leave the tent, and find a tree. This is not something I'm necessarily happy about. Peeing outside leaves a boy feeling very vunerable and slightly mortified. Although as I stated before this is truly where the conflict comes into play. Suddenly as I'm disposing of several liters of coca cola products I had consumed earlier in the day, my foot begins to burn with the intensity of a thousand midgets clawing their way out of a dumpster of ferrets. Or something equally as bad. At first, I freaked out because I thought I was peeing on my foot, and if that had happened I would have just had to cut it off. I can not walk around knowing that urine had ever been on my foot. But suddenly I realize that I am standing in a freaking ant pile. Gonads to the wind, and tiny insects scurrying up my leg biting the shit out of me. What excatly did I do to deserve this? I mean it's not like I'm dumping toxic waste here, I'm pretty sure urine is biodegradable right? To wrap things up, I finally zipped up my pants, and found another tree as I tried to rid my leg of said ants. All the time wondering if this is what started it all. Were our nations great forefathers peeing in the woods, and suddenly had a eureka that we should have own govermment? Or did they too get their limbs gnawed off by scurrying creatures? I guess we'll never know.

Oh My God

I never thought I would say this...but this is THE SONG OF THE SUMMER.

Jessica Simpson-A Public Affair

I didn't post that really, so I guess it's legal for y'all to download it. Whatever, trust me this is important.

If you know me at all, you know that I'm with someone pretty much twenty four hours a day. I hate spending time alone. I cannot stand to sit here by myself as I am right now. I need to be moving, and going, instead of sitting, and thinking, and falling. When I sit by myself and think old things, suppossed to be dead and buried things, come back from the afterlife to haunt me once again. Forgotten people start bubbling to the surface screaming my name, looking me in the eyes, holding out their hands. It's too much to take.

Back to basics

After being offline for a little over two months, I've come to realize that the interweb is not as important to me as it once was. And though I'm sorry that I haven't gotten a chance to up to date this as much as I would like to, I dont' really feel like sharing every little detail of my life as much as I used to. Maybe it's just me, but I guess I don't see the point of posting all of my secrets for a bunch of strangers to see, anymore. Don't get me wrong I'm not closing the site, just trying to see where all of this is going. All in all, I've missed everyone who does read. Thanks for sticking with me.

Sorry

It's been a while, I realize this. My internet has been down for an entire week. Sorry about lacdk of updates, I am. Will try to get back up soon.

Loved

I'd just like to take a moment to list a few things that I have much love for recently:

Shakira

Cigarettes, and lots of them

Pink Ruffles

That bitch at "Black Tie"

That other bitch on myspace who sent me a message saying that I look just like her first crush, and don't I want to "hook up"?

My stalker, have I told you the story about my stalker? No, I haven't? I totally should sometime.

Telling people that no in fact, my hips do not lie, and neither does my twat.

Public Urination.

I haven't written anything extensive in this for quite some time. I'm sorry if I just can't be bothered that often. I guess that when I'm not writing on this, I'm out there actually living my life. I have to have something to write about. And the only recurring theme I can find recently is friendship. That's all I have around me, I am completely surrounded by love. And that is good enough for me.

Et Tu

I should have posted this earlier, but all I have to say about today is:

Beware the ides of March. Seriously, that bitch is vicious.

Take it or leave it.

If it makes me a loser that sometimes I like sentimental "Oh, don't forget how wonderful we were together, and all the wild sex we accomplished" songs, then so be it.

What do you think about me?

My Pros
and Cons