Bonds, Eddie and Yahoo News

Evening.

News out of the Bay concerning the Giants best slugger, Barry Bonds. Today was the first time he's showed up to the media since the end of last season. Since that time, the Baseball world has been embattled and embarassed with allegations of steriod use by players during the late 90's and early 2000. Guess who's the center of the storm? By now, I'm sure we're all sick of hearing about this story so I'll save the chronology of events. But it was refreshing to hear Bonds in his conference today take on the entire media corp, many of whom he's had a hate-hate relationship over the course of his career. That's probably the best trait of Bonds that I like. His unwillingness to play the media game and just be himself. Like the man said, maybe if he smiled more and did more interviews and been buddy-buddy with the media he might have made a lot more money through endorsements, book deals, etc. but he chose the path he took. He plays Baseball and that's it. After the game, he goes home to his family. We sometimes want and expect our athletes and celebrities to act a certain away, unlike us because they are who they are. We expect them to play the part of being famous all the time and put them up in this pedestal. At the end of the day, they eat shit and piss just like you and me. If I ever see Barry or any body else in the mall or the grocery or wherever, I'd probably gawk but for the most part leave him alone. No autographs or pictures. If I were him, I'd be annoyed too. But thank god I'm not famous. You'd probably hear of a beating or shooting on the 6 o'clock news. If you've got half an hour to spare, watch his press conference here.

Speaking of reluctant stars, I just bought the Pearl Jam Touring Band 2000 DVD. Awesome stuff. It's a collection of songs from different dates on their 2000 tour. Here's another guy who didn't endear himself to the media. I remember them stop giving interviews and stop doing videos for their songs after the release of Ten. Like Barry, Eddie Vedder didn't want to do the whole rock star thing but since the album, and the band, was such a hit back then, he was forced into it. He felt it wasn't about the music anymore and despised the whole game so they stopped and just kept playing tours and make music. If memory serves me, they've only made 4 or 5 videos in their 13 year history. That's across 7 albums worth of songs and b-sides. 4 videos. Paris Hilton has more videos than these guys. He's even more guarded on his personal life than Barry. But they can still rock the house down with their great songs. I love that their song Last Kiss from 3 years ago blew up on radio when they didn't even release it as a single, just a part of the compilation made to raise money for the war torn victims of Sarajevo. Even made number 1 on the billboard singles chart. There's still hope for great songs with no hype to be recognized. It's still one of my dreams to catch these guys live. I think I was the only person in the Philippines at the time who bought their post Vitalogy album.

Newsworthy items from Yahoo that may only interest me. This first one has yet to happen to me, but you wouldn't know it from my three straight posts in three days. They even used my line from "New Power..." about everything being a potential blog post. I expect my royalties in the bank no later than Tuesday. Interesting stuff from the people interviewed for this article. I can't imagine juggling three diferent blogs at the same time. That's like having 3 girl/boy friends at the same time. You can't handle that without going insane or broke. Unless your Muslim and used to all the juggling. I do find it hard to believe that "...they spend enormous amounts of time blogging rather than living" If you don't live, even a little, what the hell are you going to write about? Your lunch everyday?

Here's an interesting one. Apprently Lorena Bobbit has fans. Those crazy Alaskans. It's the short days and long nights. God forbid this ever happens to me, but I don't think I'd be interested in getting it back, know what I mean? Especially if it's already been down the same hole crap goes. The article mentioned a "successful reattachment surgery". No mention at all if it still works. The last thing this poor guy needs is another appendix. But that's not the best part. The best part was at the end were they mention the charges for the wife. It goes Assault (pretty obvious), domestic violence (d'uh) and tampering with evidence (huh?) Tampering with evidence??? I don't even have a joke here.

And on that note, this blog addict signs off and invites you to live, express and be yourself.

And be careful with knives.

Whacked at Golf

My fingers are aching as I type these words right now. No, it wasn't from dialing all the numbers in Paris Hilton's hacked sidekick. I did something today that I haven't done in a long time.

I took a few whacks at a golf ball.

It must be close to 15 years since I've been in a driving range and swung at a few. And it feels like it too. I now have more respect for Golf players. You might think its just walking and swinging but let me tell you, it's hard as hell.

I got an invite from a buddy at work to go to the local driving range. They had a winter promo going where you pay once and hit as many balls as you can stand. Or until you hit someone else. Then they'll kick you out. Anyway, I was a bit hesitant since I haven't played in awhile and the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass myself. That led to this exchange:

Me: I haven't played in awhile. My swing is terrible.

Nick: Yeah you and half the people that are there.

Pretty convincing. Why not, I thought. Never been a big fan but I do enjoy watching. The pro's make it look so easy hitting a tiny round ball 300 yards. Might be fun. At the very least, it makes for a good blog entry.

So I get to the range after work and start off with a 9 iron. My very first swing felt awkward and uncomfortable. Like bending over backwards. That's what happens when you try to hit it halfway accross the pacific on your first try. Naturally it went 5 feet out, with a few mercy bounces. Hey at least I actually hit the damn thing. After a couple more swings, (and a few airballs) I finally got it up. Up and right. Not bad. I've seen the pro's hook it a couple of times. Not with a 9 iron but still. A few tips from my buddy on my swing and I think I got the hang of it. So, I decided to move up to a 6 Iron. That led to this exchange.

Me: I feel good. Let me try a 6.

Nick: That is a 6.

Am I that good? Probably not but I have officialy made an idiot of myself. Which was proven to be true since I didn't get to hit a good one afterwards. Meanwhile, My legs were starting to ache from all the twisting and turning in trying to swing real hard. Which was affecting the way I swing because there were times when I thought I'd fall over on my follow through. Nick gave me a few more pointers out of mercy, like straightening out the shaft and closing in the face to the ball, not hitting the ball at the very bottom, and my favorite one: relax and easy on the swing. It became my mantra; take it easy. Very hard when instincts tell you to hit it farther than the one next to you. My personal advice: don't move your head to watch the ball once you feel it hit. Keep it down until you follow through. It squares your shoulder. I got that from hitting the driver. Ah, the driver.

Nick pulls out the big 4 wood and tells me to try it. I graciously decline for fear of making a bigger moron of myself. But I give in eventually. Big mistake. Not once did I get a good hit and I almost hit someone on the far right corner. The last swing was what got me to stop. I positioned across the ball, took a deep breath and gave it a good whack. By the way, I've never said "whack" so many times in a 3 hour period in my life. In the words of Lindsay Lohan "it's retarded". Anyway, the ball ends up hitting the rail in front of me and ricochet's 2 feet in the grass behind me. Thank god that rail was there. I was through with the driver after that. Nick had seen enough too and promptly handed me an 8 Iron.

Around about this time, my hands were aching along with my legs, back, neck; pretty much everything except my forehead. You can easily tell if you hit the ball wrong. It might travel, but the vibration from the impact goes up from the face of the club to your arms. Imagine a gong being hit. The vibrations spread outwards from the center of the impact, creating the familiar sound. There was no sound in my case. Maybe a few broken bones. Might have been my pinky.

After 2 hours, I was spent so we went putting. This, I think I can do. I am a seasoned mini golfer. So we play a game of 6 holes. Less strokes it takes for you to finish 6 holes wins. We alternate choosing holes and distance. Like HORSE without the letters. For 4 rounds, I get beat by an average of 4 strokes. And all that walking around the putting surface was real tiring. Especially when your getting creamed. I couldn't use my distinct advantage of knowing when to hit a ball once the bridge is down or when the clowns mouth is open. Oh well at least there was no money involved.

All in all, it was good times. I think I got a handle on my swing. It's a lot easier to hit the ball off a tee. But I don't have any grand ambitions. I think I'll stick to writing and hold on to my fingers straight and intact.

Word Play and the Ending of a Dream

I'm feeling terrible right now. Ok not as worse as the weekend. Annoyed, is probably the word I'm looking for. I've actually caught a cold for the first time in years. Hence, my annoyance. Yesterday, I spent the entire day drinking water and lying in bed, getting up only for meals and the frequesnt bathroom breaks you get when you drink gallons of water, like I did. It's been raining like a mf here for the past few days. I actually never minded the rain. There's a certain aura the gloom projects to me that I like. When I see that grayish cloud, I think of spending the afternoon at home, watching a movie with someone and having a cup of tea; or hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows. Maybe a little cuddling. When it's sunny, I think of a beach as far as the eye can see, with so much people lying down, playing, talking, having fun in the warm sun. You get the idea. But, yeah I'm not one of those "ah shit it's raining" types. Unless I forget to bring something to cover my bald head and get sick from being in the rain. Hey, you can get sunburn from staying in the sun too long, too.

I was talking about looking for a word before, which is a perfect segue to my new blog title. I think I've outgrown the whole dreaming thing. So from this day forth, I shall now pronounce thee Word Playground! I got the idea from an article I was reading earlier that I'll talk about in a minute. The whole My Dreaming concept was nice but I think I'll go in another direction with the theme for this site. Besides, it was getting a little, um corny for lack of a better word.

Sad day in the world of sports, pop culture and counter culture with the passing of one of its most profound and original writers, Hunter S. Thompson. I was introduced to his writing as one of the first Page 2 writers on ESPN.com. If nothing else, the man was alone in his voice and style. At first, I thought he was just one of those writers that loved to bet on Football and weren't afraid to say it. Over the 4 years he was part of Page 2, he has written about a whole lot more. Check out the Page 2 tribute page that's available for today only, I guess. If your reading this after the fact, here's his entire collection of articles on Page 2. After Ralph Wiley's death, it's such a shame that two good writers, and men, were taken away by her so soon. Good Doctor, you will be missed.

Yesterday, while I was still reeling from the effects of my running nose and irritated throat, I had the chance to catch the NBA All Star Game and was seriously considering writing a running diary of the events. But I figured the Sports Guy was going to do the same (and much better). Besides, I wasn't in the mood to think a whole lot. Just wanted to watch some basketball played at the lowest level by supposed "All-Stars". Only in an all star game can you hear an announcer say "they ONLY commited 23 turnovers, down from last year which is a good sign." The game was hardly even over at that point. But I digress, the whole point was to put on a show and provide highlights. By far the best was Vince Carter's oop to himself of the backboard. It topped the previous two "oops of the backboard" set by Vinsanity's cousin, Tracy McGrady in 2002 and last year. Catch the highlight here if you missed it and have the bandwidth to play it. While you're there, you might want to check out T-Mac's version this year, which was sweet in itself. The East won, by the way, with The Answer Allen Iverson getting MVP honors for being one 5 players from either team that actually played hard and didn't dog it.

This year, I missed the dunk contest for the first time in awhile and didn't think much of it since the contest has never been the same since Carter won it in 2000. Ok, it's been awful after that. Aside from Jason Richardson, the two time champ, everybody else has been awful. So I didn't watch it. Come now Sunday and that's all everyone can talk about. Dammit! Josh Smith from the Hawks took home the title with three awesome dunks but Amare Stoudamire had by far the greatest dunk I have ever seen. You have to see this to believe it. Hint: it involves a skill from a different sport. When I saw the highlights, I was equal parts amazed and pissed off that I missed it. They even had a guy embarass himself by trying the same dunk over and over and over and over again until he got it and everyone was heckling him for it. Great comedy. The sad part is, he's actually a pretty good dunker. You can usually find him in the Top Ten plays on Sportscenter dunking over someone in a game. The other sad part is, he's white which doesn't help the whole "White Men Can't Jump" theory, which was previously thought to be erased when Brent Barry won it years ago. Overall, I wished I'd seen it for all the reasons mentioned above.

Ok, I was talking about the new title for the blog a minute ago. It basically means a place for me (and you) to come in and play with words and use them for our wants and needs. Whatever we want it to mean. Words are the tools, or toys if you will, we use to play, have fun and maybe even learn a little. It's also an expression of coming together of words, like kids in a park. I got the idea after reading this great interview with noted comic writer Alan Moore. This guy has 25 years of writing experience and has created a whole host of legendary comics, from Watchmen to his run with Swamp Thing and, for all you mainstream "Spider Man-Batman" types, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. For all those aspiring writers out there, this is a great read for us; I know I certainly picked up stuff here. And for those that don't think much of comic writers, artists or the whole medium in general, this one is for you.

Winging It II

I'm proud to say that I finally found the elusive Ethel Booba video. Let me tell you, it's an enormous disappointment if you were looking for something in the hardcore end. It was hardly stimulating at all, if you know what I mean. In fact, it was really funny. You can't see the dude because he has the camera but he talked a lot. In fact he gave us the classic one liner "Why you coverin' your face n****? (note, this is a fil-am guy calling a girl a n****) and plenty more stuff but I like my site PG-13. If I covered everything, I'd have to put a lot more aster*sks. And I li** wo*d* be**e*. Anyway don't waste your time looking for it unless someone has it and is willing to share wink wink.

Today, I just wasted my time at work doing the most gawd-awful stuff. If you call fixing the page breaks on an excel file so it prints legibly work then I have a job for you. What a bore. Then just a couple of hours ago, I had to stay around past 5 to enter some numbers on a file from another file. The definition of data entry work. Or, as I like to call it, Data Administrator. Or working stiff. But I can't complain. I got OT pay. Besides I'd rather do that than fix a 50 sheet excel file, only they probably need one small thing in that entire file but they make you fix the whole thing anyway. And the thing that irritates me the most, is that they make it sound like they really need me to do this. Believe me, when your boss shows up at your cube and mentions the words "need your help", "critical" and "today", fake a diarrhea. Just trust me on this. At least when I give our other departments junk work, I give it to them straight, no sweetening. They know that I need it done but I don't want to do it coz it's tedious and a waste of my time. No point in me telling them that it was critical. If it was really "critical", I'd do it myself.

Whew, that's my day. I'm a little snappy but that's just from being in the office from 7:30-7:30. So I'll sign off now. Need to do all of this all over again tomorrow.

Winging It

No particular reason with this post. Just wanted to drop in. So don't try and find a point . There isn't one. You've been warned. If you have nothing else to do with your time like I do, read on.

Piece of news regarding the sports world. February 16 will go down in history as an ominous day in the sports world. For the first time, a major North American professional league will not play an entire season. I'm talking aboot hockey of course. A CBA fight between the league and the players resulted in a major black eye for hockey in America, if it didn't have it already. It's way down in popularity here, except for the regions where there is actually snow. I mean, there's a team here in San Jose for christ sakes! We are the definition of a small market team. There's no snow. Yet somehow there's a team here. Stick to Canada and the Northeast and Michigan. Please.

I wanted to find some updates regarding the bombing that happened the other day in the Philippines. Too bad inq7.net, the site for the newspaper Inquirer, had nothing save for a report on more checkpoints. I was trying to find a site that had news on the people that died, names and faces, and reports on what happened with the injured. I don't want to hear about checkpoints. You BETTER have checkpoints after this. Maybe they had it on Tuesday, Manila time. Still, you'd think they'd link to it. Now I'm ripping the web site. Let's just move on.

Updates with the "project". I really need to come up with a title. At least a codename or something. Like "Longhorn" for the new Windows Operating System. What a dumb name. Anyway, it looks like I'll make my self-imposed deadline on the end of February. It's really not hard. I have written the first episode years ago. Just needed to make tweaks. I've been spending most of the time creating the characters, traits and such. BTW, yes I do know how it all ends. But we are a long way from there, if I ever get that far.

I caught the new episode of Queer Eye last night. Awesome episode. I'm now hooked. It was about the hippie who never shaved or cut his hair for a decade. Great stuff. Next week, they teased the guy hating everything the fab 5 suggests. Fantastic idea. Nothing like gay guys getting pissed off. That's right up there on the Unintentional Comedy Scale, which the Sports Guy came up with.

For the past few days, I've been relentlessly looking for the Sex Video of some chick named Ethel Booba. Since, I've heard about it, I've been looking everywhere. So, if you googled "Ethel Booba Sex Video" and came to this site looking for it, sorry I'm looking for it too. But nice having you around though.

I'm bidding on the Season 1 and 2 DVD pack of Family Guy on eBay. If you haven't seen that please do. They're showing it everyday on TBS at night (not sure of the time) and on Cartoon Network at 11. I have nothing but great things to say about that show. It's like the dirty, slutty cousin of The Simpsons. Catch an episode to see what I mean.

I think that's about it. Well I can always post tomorrow right? If I missed anything.

Bombing in the Philippines

On a serious note, I'd like to take the time to honor the people that died yesterday in the bombings that happened in the Philippines.

You didn't have to go , but fate and destiny gave you a bad hand, specifically the hands of the people that planted those bombs in the bus stations and in the mall. Their hands have taken 12 people from this Earth and changed the way 100 + more will live their lives, not to mention the numerous people that knew these victims , and us, who are left to watch and listen. And for what? An ideal? I'm all for opinions. I'm all for fighting for an ideal. I'm all for change. I just don't want to change people's minds by force. And I don't want to force my ideals down people's throats. And I especially don't like the idea of hurting other people, physically or emotionally, to prove my point.

Valentine's Day for All

Happy Valentine's day to all! I also mean you, lonely boy/girl. Jealous of all the people in line to buy candies and flowers for their loved ones? You don't have to be. Valentine's doesn't necessarily mean you have to have a honey-bun to enjoy the day. You also don't have to be a pessimist and kill-joy and say "Valentine's day are for wussies." This is the day of love. You can love a myriad of other things, not just the opposite sex. Or same sex, if that floats your boat. Here now I present to you things to love on Valentine's day!

Love thy neighbor. Duh. That was easy. But if you're really longing for some loving, or want to do something sweet, send your neighbor some dessert. Or anything just to say hi and "happy valentine's!" They'll love you for it. And maybe even forget that you borrowed the vacuum and haven't returned it.

Love thy family. Another easy one. Give them a call. See how they are. Send your Mom and Dad a card or just take them out to dinner, if they don't have plans. Say hi to the brother and sister. Send them chocoloates. If you're a guy and you have brothers, just give a quick hi and how you doing. Don't try and feed them the whole happy valentine line and stuff. They might look at you weird. Girls, try and be nice to little sister ok?

Love thy stuff. My favorite for the romantically challenged. No date tonight? Easy. Just drop a few hundred bucks on that brand spankin' new HDTV. You'll feel better until you see your bill. Strapped for cash? Maybe it's time you checked out your classic stuff that's been sitting in your house and reconnect. Old tapes, classic CD's, that new thingie majig you bought on TV but never used. Works wonders until you start thinking what a loser you are. If that's the case stop right away and take a swig of ol' Johnny Walker. But for the most part, it never happens that way. If you're a gee.. well that's too harsh. Let me try that again. If your a different kind. Ah! Well then maybe you should spend Valentine's watching the old Star Wars trilogy and re-enact every scene while watching. Or practice your Magic cards strategy by your self and updating your website with your new discoveries. Or just chat with fellow ge... different people and analyze the holes in the time space continuum of the different Star Trek series. Or maybe just write a blog. Whoops! that was too depressing. Let's just move on.

Love thy TV. I feel sorry for you if you don't have cable. Basic cable, at least. There a ton of shows that they will televise for the stay-at-home crowd. I'll let you click away and decide for yourself.

Love thy Computer. I've no comment on this.

Love thy work. No plans tonight? Nothing good to watch on TV? Then why don't you just do what every other single, no valentine guy or gal that has a job and is paid hourly do; Work overtime! Then you can have more money come payday to spend on things you don't need which will give you a false sense of accomplishment for a couple of hours until you realize you have no love life. But hey! at least you now have something to come back to next Valentine!

Well, there you have it. For the people that have a romantic valentine all set up, God bless you and may you have a wonderful dinner that is ridiculously expensive, a movie with bad popcorn and safe sex tonight. For the rest of you, follow my advice and you may get through the night without crying yourself to sleep.

Now, if you'll excuse me I have to time out and catch wrestling on at 9.

Preview of Fanity

A little preview of Fanity.

This is sort of a "warm-up", if you will, for the story that's going to be available in fictionpress.com (cheap plug!) I wanted to use this for one of my stories there but I've been really tardy on my blogsite so here you go. I came up with this one one night while I was watching tv and just wasn't paying attention except for what I was thinking about. Or dreaming. I was really into it. So there you go. Enjoy.

Fanity

He opens his eyes. The light hits his eyes hard, making him squint. He’s a bit groggy, like he shouldn’t be awake yet. He looks straight ahead and focuses on a figure with its back to him. She turns around and smiles instantly.

“Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?” A voice, old and familiar. Warmth envelopes him as she comes closer and gives him a hug.

“Morning, mommy. I had a dream but I can’t remember it anymore.” He says, recognition and memory hitting him in an instant. The lady was his Mom. He looks around the room and notices the walls painted in yellow with blue strips going down. The painted airplanes giving it a playful feel. Miniature planes hang on the ceiling.

“I’m sure it was nice with lots of candies and toys, dear.” She says in her calm, loving voice. “Now you have to dress up now because we have to go to a party today.” He looks at her with a confused look. “What party, mommy?” She gives him the same confused look. “Don’t you remember? It’s your friend Brad’s birthday today. He’s got a birthday party out in the park. They’ve got balloons, games and a clown!” His eyes gleam with excitement. “Oh right! Yeaaaayyy!!!” He jumps out of bed and dives straight to his closet, looking for clothes. “C’mon mommy! Hurry up we’ll be late!” He showers, changes and runs down toward the car, eyes even wider now and heart racing.

“Ok! Ok! Hang on a second.”

They jump to the car and drive the short distance to the park. He quickly sees the balloons from a distance and can’t help but feel excited. They come closer and from outside his window he recognizes all his friends. “They’re all here!” He shouts to his Mom. She gives a big smile while looking back at him. “Just have to park the car, honey.” As soon as she stops the car, he takes off his seatbelt, opens the door and makes a mad dash to where the balloons were.

“Honey! Be careful you might trip and fall!”

He jumps to a stop in front of his friends who are playing. “You just made it! We were going to start whacking the piñata.” Brad says matter-of-factly. “Happy birthday, Brad. And I wouldn’t miss that for the world!” huffing and puffing as the words leave his mouth. “Thanks. Hey I’ve got first crack at the donkey!” Brad takes the stick and starts walking toward the piñata. Pretty soon all the kids follow toward the hanging donkey. “Be careful Brad! Kids, stay a safe distance away you might get hit!” An elderly woman shouts, her voice getting louder, like she’s walking closer. It’s Brad’s Mother. “Ok, I’ve got the blindfold. Remember be careful how you swing that thing. Don’t want you hitting the other kids.” She puts the blindfold and covers Brad’s eyes. She gives him a few spins then stops.

“Ok Go!” Brad’s mother shouts. Brad starts walking, awkwardly at first, stumbling a bit until getting his bearings straight. Hand sticking out like he’s feeling around the air. Brad walks for a few steps until getting to a tree. A quick right and feels around some more. The other kids are screaming instructions. All the parents are laughing and shouting encouragement. “Stop! Stop! You got it!” He screams to Brad. Brad smiles, lifting the stick and swinging it down with all his might.

The piñata explodes, raining candy down all around. He reacts, running as fast as he can and jumping down toward the candy on the floor. His hearts racing, trying to get as much candy as he can. Suddenly, he feels a weight crash on his back and he feels a sharp pain on his head. Everything is black but the pain. He immediately loses consciousness.

He opens his eyes. He looks around a beautiful room. Large and spacious, with white painted walls, Victorian paintings that he somehow recognizes and to his immediate left, a woman. Her eyes are closed, her blonde hair falling to cover her face. He pushes it aside to reveal a beautiful woman. Hazelnut complexion and luscious lips. He suddenly feels aroused. He stares down to her revealed shoulders, covered only by the silk bed sheet. “Do I…?” He thinks to himself. His heart races as he moves his hands slowly to the sheet and pushes it down. His eyes haven’t blinked as he stares at the naked venus sleeping before him. Breast pressed against each other, her chest slowly moving up and down as she breathes. He stops and realizes something. He looks down to see his bare-chested body. “Oh my God”, he thinks to himself. Realization suddenly comes to him as he remembers. Remembers her mouth open and eyes closed as she rolls her head back. He comes to as he sees her moving just little. “Hmmm. It’s cold…” She murmurs the words and it creeps slowly to his head. His excitement builds. “Sorry.” He inches closer and takes the sheet and covers her with it. He leaves his hand underneath and rubs her arm. “It’s ok.” She presses against his chest and kisses it. “You were amazing.” She says to him. “Was I? I don’t remember.” He looks down to her and he gives her a wry smile. By now he’s hugging her with both hands, slowly rubbing her arm and back. “Again? You can’t possibly want more after that.” She gives him a smile back and feels her own excitement build. “Try me.” He suddenly rolls to his back and pulls her on top of him. She giggles and starts kissing him.

He closes his eyes and soaks in the sensation. It’s black but he feels hot and electric. He can feel her on top of him, warm and tight. She goes up and down, hands on his chest and moaning at every thrust. He opens his eyes for a second to see her face. Her eyes are closed and her heads cocked back. “Faster” he whispers as loud as he possibly can. She leans closer to him and starts rocking her hips faster. She moans louder but it’s drowned out by his. He hugs her tight, moaning and breather louder until he violently tilts his head back and gives one final breath. “Shit…” he whipers again and opens his eyes to look at her. She’s stopped moving, save for the heavy breathing. She looks at him and gives a wide smile. She kisses him on the lips and moves to lie next to him. He relaxes his body and stares to the roof. He gives a big smile and starts to feel his eyes close. He fights it for a few seconds. But he fails and finds himself in the dark again.

He opens his eyes. He’s looking out at a crowd of about 100. They are all clapping. The ones in the front are staring right at him with beaming smiles. They’re all hooting and hollering. He has a microphone in front of him, by his mouth. To his left, the guitarist practices a few chords for the next song. To his right, the bassist smiles at the crowd and points to someone, maybe a friend. He turns around to find the drummer sipping on a beer. He spots the bottle of water and heads straight for it. He suddenly feels thirsty and hot. Putting his hand to his forehead, he feels sweat. He looks around at the dark bar and can’t quite focus on the faces. He takes a swig and suddenly the drummer yells, “You ready?” He nods, hesitantly and walks slowly back to the microphone. A bright spotlight right in his face jolts him. He comes up on the mic and gives the guitarist a nod. As soon as the first chords are played, the lyrics push to the front of his head and he starts singing. He’s belting out a cover of his favorite song. A classic. Everyone roars in approval. They all start singing along. He closes his eyes and sings the tune as best he can, hitting all the high notes. He feels Goosebumps rising from his neck to his legs. The song always touches a nerve for him. Especially tonight, since he’s got the crowd wanting more. He finishes two more songs. “Good Night!” He screams and all the bright lights turn off.

The road ahead of him clears up as a car zooms past him from the other side. He’s driving with a girl. Black hair falling to her shoulders. She’s wearing a dress he bought her. “You look beautiful tonight.” He says, looking at her for a few seconds before looking back to the road. “Thanks.” She leans over gives him a light kiss on the cheek “So where are we going tonight?” She says after sinking back to her seat. She opens the light and starts putting on lipstick. “I was thinking just the usual Valentine day stuff. You know, dinner and a movie”. He gets nervous, thinking she might hate the idea. She momentarily stops touching up. “Ok, sounds good.” He looks at her and she’s back to putting on makeup. “Bad liar.” He thinks to himself. Thinking of other options, he loses focus on the road. Never noticing the cat until it was right in front of him. He swerves to the right and instantly hits the guardrail. They blow the guardrail of its hinges, sending the car flying through the air, of the edge of the cliff. They both scream at the top of their lungs as the cars hood points downward.

He’s falling. At least, that’s what it feels like. It’s dark. He can’t see anything. His head feels like it’s pointing downwards. It feels like wind is rushing past his head. He’s falling, but he can’t see anything. He’s getting scared. His hearts beating faster and faster with each passing moment. And then, it’s over.

He opens his eyes, startled. Mouth open, gasping hard for air. He suddenly feels cold. Clasping his hands around him, he tries to stay warm. He ducks his head, and notices his hands. Dirty, with torn gloves around them. He looks at his clothing. Three layers of dirty, worn down jackets cover his shivering body. He looks around his surroundings and notices all the people walking past him. One of them stops, juggling for stuff in his pocket and drops some quarters on a can right in front of him. He must’ve stared at the guy for 30 seconds, as the kind man goes on with his life. “I’m a bum.” He mumbles to himself. “Been that way for a long time my friend.” A voice to his left says to him. He looks at that direction to find a woman. Old and poor just like him, just now getting up. “So, how much that kind sir give you?” She crawls to the can and inspects the contents. “That’s it? 2 lousy quarters and a nickel! Don’t they know they raised prices on a 40??” She throws the coins back, takes a step back, stops and then dives back for the coins in the can. After this display, she sits down next to him and puts the coins in her pocket. He gives her a very dirty look. “What? You don’t seem to want it.” He wants to get mad at her but he can’t. He’s still in shock at what he’s going through right now. He looks again at his hands. Dirty, and worn down. He grabs a couple of blankets that are, apparently, his only possessions. “How did this happen?” He thinks to himself. He stares out. Alone in his thoughts. She’s talking about something but he’s not listening. He’s got more important things to think about. He stares out to the other side of the street. There’s a guitar shop next to the liquor store. There’s a park two blocks down. “Hey, where did you get this?” The crazy old bat is still talking.

“Get what?” He mumbles.

“This.” And she shows him a copy of a magazine. A beautiful blonde woman is in the cover. “Can I have it?” She asks, inquisitively. “Sure. I don’t even know why I have that.” He’s getting annoyed at this person. “Why can’t she leave me alone?” He thinks to himself. Finally, he realizes the only way to shut her up. He grabs all his blankets, covers himself with it, closes his eyes and goes back to sleep.

The Diary That Never Was

I’ve never felt so depressed. I was supposed to write a running diary about the Super Bowl. I started this morning but didn’t feel too good about it so I deleted it. Then I started writing it again an hour ago. This time, I sprinkled in my opinion about the ads. But midway through writing it, I realized that I didn’t know if I got the time they appeared write. I panicked and inexplicably deleted it again. Now I just can’t bring myself to start over. A serious case of writers block. I again started to write, this time splitting up the ads commentary and game commentary. But it turned out real bad. Now I feel terrible. I haven’t written anything in days. I wish I’d brought my book with me to the game, but I just would have felt like a real dork. And it was a great day too. Aaarrrgh, so frustrating. Remember that whole “everything around you is a potential blog stuff?” I think I need to follow my own advice. I do have a good excuse, though (sort of). I’ve been pre-occupied with my pet project, which really needs a name. It’s coming along great, BTW. I might even make my end of the month deadline that I set for myself. A lot of this stuff is self-motivation. So If I’ve been negligent on my blog updates, well guilty as charged. As my mom used to say, if you’ve got nothing good to say don’t say anything!

Dropping In (In n Out)

It's been awhile. I really planned on staying away since I was busy doing research on my pet project. But it's hard seeing as my last post was on Friday. Speaking of which, that was a pretty long winded In n Out which really broke the spirit of what it was supposed to be. In N Out's are supposed to be like fast food. So I'll keep my rambling short. This is why I'm writing now. Just to ramble on numerous things.

Super Bowl is only a couple of days away and I'll post my full running diary of the day here. This time, I'll try and keep tabs of the time by bringing a pen and paper to the party I'm going to. Hopefully, I don't look like a dork holding a beer, hotdog, pen and paper while watching the game. I'm really leaning on taking the Patriots and laying the 7, by the way.

As part of my research, I finally watched The Passion of Christ. What a brutal movie that was. I heard a lot of people say they felt bad watching it and wanting to go confess and all that. I just was in shock. Maybe for other people it meant much more because it was Jesus, but damn that was like watching a hardcore ECW match on pay per view. I thought the cinematography was a little cheesy on some parts. I also thought the characters talking in Latin (Hebrew? Aramaic?) was a real good touch. Best thing I noticed about the movie. Did I already tell you the movie was brutal? That whole chastising scene was real brutal. How many times am I gonna say brutal? Let's just move on.

Just got iTunes and moved all my mp3's there. That's also part of the reason I haven't been writing. Great program. Works real well with windows. A couple of minor annoyances though. I can't seem to get the "Get CD track Names" function working. I have to update my mp3's manually. Other than that, the normal migration problems. Tolerable. I'm almost at my goal of completely flushing out windows from my system. All thats left is Windows and Office. Nothing I can do about those two since I use a company PC. Unless I can convince the entire company to switch to Apple. Or better yet, Linux. Yeah, and dinosaurs are walking the Earth.

Lastly, I've decided to NOT post the monthly story here. After much deliberation, I've decided to post it at FanFiction.net. I just felt that I didn't want to bombard this space with too much. I'll keep this as a blog. I'll still post short stories and stuff here but by putting out on FanFiction.Net, I can get feedback from people I don't know and they host these kinds of projects there. I'll just put a link here, I guess. And no, I don' have a name yet. I'm leaning towards "Son of Man" but i have several problems with it. It's definitely going to change barring a serious case of writers block.

That's it. Now go out and live.