You ever have something that you really want to do (for many reasons) and you just can’t seem to get it done…no matter how hard you try?
Well that is MY LIFE!
As you all know…I married the wrong
bitch-ass, cunt, troll, psycho person the first time around. We separated in September of 2005 and the divorce proceedings started shortly afterward.
Now…3 FUCKING YEARS LATER…I still can’t seem to get the freakin troll off my back!
I love my two young boys (who live with their mother
fucker) to death…but I want the legal issues to be finalized so that there is no more back and forth and we can all move on.
I fell in love with Mariah (Insane Mama) and her kids…I want to marry her, but I can’t until my divorce is finalized.
I want to be able to get along ok with mongoloid cunt…but she is a nasty, backstabbing piece of shit…and I have to say that I’ve had some pretty evil thoughts about her…and her well being…and continue to find myself smiling after each thought.
How can a divorce case last more than 3 years when there is no fight over money or property? Well…let me tell you:
She has ‘changed’ lawyers 4 times…each time the new one would be granted a continuance.
She has come to every court appearance with long lists of accusations, which the judge (by law) has to examine.
She makes a point to state at every opportunity that she will not agree to, but is willing to ‘discuss’ overnight visits down the road…knowing that that is what I want…so we have to go back to court and fight again.
On another note….but about as frustrating…I had this throat problem since last December, where I irritatingly clear my throat every 5 minutes or so…EVERY DAY!!! At first I thought that I was just a bit sick, then tried some random over the counter meds that by reading them I thought might work. Then I went to see my Dr. who told me that it must be an allergy….although the allergist and blood work up that I had done said that I am not allergic to anything. My doc put me on Zyrtec D and the shit stopped…after about 2 weeks…but in the meantime…I got a cold and now, although not clearing my throat…I can’t get rid of my hacking cough. Just another thing that I just can’t seem to have ‘closure’ with.
TALK ABOUT PEEING IN THE WIND!
Saturday, October 18, 2008
You ever have something that you really want to do (for many reasons) and you just can’t seem to get it done…no matter how hard you try?
Hello everyone. Sorry for the long absence. Yes...the tent has been empty for the past month. I just needed to take some time to get my head on right and get the "tent" in order.
Believe me...I have saved up some extra special pee for you all. I will get some stuff typed up and posted for yu guys very soon.
For a minute...I thought that there was only room for one Super Blogger in my tent....but I suppose...together...we have some insane pee to spray on you all.
Hold tight for my visits and posts
Saturday, September 20, 2008
I may have to see some sort of doctor…or scientists or something. Why you ask? Well, as most of you know, I live with Insane Mama and her 3 daughters and her son. The women in the house are 9, 11, 16 and, well, Insane Mama is in her 30’s.
I know that when women/girls who live together often start to ‘synchronize’ with their periods (or ‘moons’ as we call it here in the house of insanity.)
Now the reason that I may be in need of some sort of specialist is because I think that I may be….’synchronizing’. Right around the time that Insane Mama and 16 year old Amanda are entering into their spell of Pre Moon Syndrome (PMS), I start to crave ALL food, I get cranky, short tempered, I get cramps (from gas) and nothing that goes on in my life (for that week span) is ever right…or good enough.
I am scared! I say that cuz…what is next? I fear that I’ll wake up one morning lying in a pool of my own blood. Where will I bleed from? Shit that scares me!
With all of the others in the house…my irritability is irrational. It makes no sense. There is no logical reason for my MOODS and I have no way of explaining what is happening. I try to equate it with men’s sympathy pains during pregnancies…but that does not fly around here. When the two eldest females of the house are…irrational…I am the one who is supposed to be there to hold down the fort.
Now I don’t want any of you to feel bold enough to say something like, “maybe you are part woman and you actually GET PMS.” Or, “that maybe I am turning into a woman. That shit don’t fly on my blog!
Anyway…I don’t know if I need a doctor, a scientist/researcher or a freaking shrink.
PLEASE HELP ME!!!
Thursday, September 18, 2008
We hung out there for a little bit…then we started talking to some of the people playing darts. It was obvious to us that they had seen how we were groping one another by the way they were inconspicuously watching every one of our hand movements. We …kind of liked that. We continued our playfulness…not trying to hide any of it. It seemed to be turning the other couple on a bit and …we liked having that effect on them. The few times that I ‘buzzed’ her while talking with the other couple. I saw Mariah move her hand to her nether region while letting out a slight moan. I knew that the other woman had put two and two together and offered up a slight smile and approving nod to Mariah.
After another drink, Mariah and I moved back over to the bar area and squeezed onto two empty bar stools. This gave me the ‘access’ that I had been wanting. She sat facing me…with her legs slightly spread. I watched as they opened and closed every time I hit my little secret button. We sat, making small talk while I worked one of my hands up her thigh…to her incredibly wet panties. Her thighs clenched around my hand…keeping it in place. Rubbing her in small circles, I felt her rocking back and forth on her stool…pushing herself into my roaming fingers. My hand felt as if I’d been soaking it in hot, sweet massage oil. I slowly pulled my hand back, careful to keep all of her sweetness on my fingers. I began raising my hand, to my mouth when she quickly grabbed me by the wrist and pulled my soaking fingers to her lips. Not caring who was watching, she began licking and sucking on each of my wet fingers. I was rock hard. I raised my glass, indicated a toast and downed the rest of my beer…she followed in suit. I jumped up from my stool, realizing that both my pants had an obvious bulge in them and she had left an unmistakable wet spot on the stool that she had just jumped off. I led her by the hand to the front door of the bar. Once outside, I pulled her around the corner into the alley. It only took a second for my trained eyes to find a slightly dark spot for us to slide into. ‘Our spot’ was not completely out of sight…but enough for us. Being seen…was a bit exciting.
TO BE CONTINUED…….
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
I give My Love the sexy new panties, with a remote controlled vibrator built-in, that I just found at our local ‘adult store.’ I tell her that we are going to go out for a drink. As we walk up to the door of our favorite English Pub, I turn to her and tell her that I want to see her squirm. She gives me a sweet smile, accompanied by a look that you would get from a puppy dog who saw the big piece of steak that you were holding behind your back.
We walk in and I tell her that I am going to run into the bathroom and that she should order us a few beers. As I come out of the bathroom, I see that she has wiggled her way up to the busy bar…and she was trying to get the attention of the bartender.
Wedged between a cluster of people, all trying to refill their drinks, I thought that it would be a good time to test the range of our new toy. With the press of a button, from inside my pocket, I instantly saw her jump a bit and then look around…expecting me to be right behind her. I was still about 25 feet away and blocked by a group of people playing darts.
I moved a bit closer and, leaning up against a post, gave her another quick little buzzzzz. She quickly turned her head, not seeing me…but smiling intently anyway. As the bartender approached her and I saw her begin to order…I hit her again…this time…I made it last a few seconds. I could see that while I was pressing that little special button in my pocket, it was as if I pressed the ‘pause’ button. She froze for a few seconds…mouth gaping…and eyes twinkling.
I approached her from behind and put my hand on the small of her back while pressing the button again….on…then off, on…the off… She turned to me and asked me how in the hell was she going to be able to order our drinks if I kept doing that. I smiled and just told her how hot she looked while getting a love jolt while trying to order drinks.
We stood there, in the middle of a big group of bar patrons…waiting to get our beers. I asked her how her new little ‘treat’ was. She smiled and responded with, “I hope to hell this thing is water proof.” I moved in close to her and gently slid my hand between her thighs…slowly moving up her skirt. Pressing the button again, I felt the vibration through her hot, wet panties.
Keeping the button pressed, I wet my fingers with her sweet, hot juice. After bringing my fingers up to my mouth and licking them clean, I smiled and winked at her and then grabbed her face and kissed her. I could tell that she could taste herself…the way that her tongue wiped mine clean. She looked me in the eyes and said, “I think I’m kind of liking this.”
We grabbed our drinks and made our way through the crowded room and found a little spot near the dart boards where we could put our drinks down and continue people watching, watching dart games and …our little sexual exchange. Off and on, I had been pressing the button…watching her miss a step and stutter a bit. I slid my hand under her skirt once more…this time I felt her juices literally dripping down her upper thighs. I looked down at the floor…expecting to see a small pool of ‘love’…then I caressed every part of her body with my eyes, until we made eye contact. She just nodded and said, “Oh yeah.”
Her hands then started wandering…brushing over the front of my pants…finding me completely hard…she gave me a gentle squeeze. I gave her a little buzz…in return I got a slight stroke. I liked this give and take. We kissed again. Grinding on her…I could feel the vibrating in my groin…oh…this is good.
TO BE CONTINUED - PART 2
Monday, September 15, 2008
The following is a sampling of some of the recent emails that I’ve gotten from the EX.
I am convinced that she is COMPLETELY OUT OF CONTROL...what do you think?
We already know how it will go based on past experience and I know what is best for my boys who I am with everyday. I am the one that has to deal with them not getting up for school and being cranky the next AM.
I was hoping you would finally work with me but if I have to go to court to have visitation amended, I will since you are being unreasonable and unwilling to make a small change that is in the boys best interest. I'm sure the judge will agree as usual. .
But I guess I shouldn't expect cooperation from people who let 11 year olds operate motor craft and don't call 911 when someone overdoses to protect them from CPS. I suppose its my obligation to report such issues and concerns too. Good thing I grabbed screen shots about the not calling 911 and fear of CPS before that was removed.
I owe my lawyer $20000 thanks to having to go to court with your unfit self, so I had to cut him loose. I can't afford his bills when I am raising the boys. But he will finish the work he was retained for and he referred me to another great but more affordable lawyer to take over from here.
I know we agreed to 930a - 530p this Sunday but is there any way you can come earlier just this Sunday? You can still bring them back @ 530p but my plans got moved around a bit so it would make a huge difference if you could help me out by picking them up as early as possible.
I know you're probably not inclined to help me, but perhaps we can finally put all the craziness aside and this could be a first step in trying to help each other instead of working against each other? My friend, Kim, who you met at Jack's school has such a good relationship with he ex-husband (and his new wife) despite some very similar issues they went through, and I'd like for us all to get in a similar place someday and just put the past aside. I think I finally see that you have the boys' best interests at heart and wouldn't do anything to hurt/damage them, and I'd just like to move forward. All this drama is exhausting.
Let me know what you think.
I know you emailed Jim too.
And I'm sorry that it is sad for you, I really am, but these are people that are VERY ACTIVE -- as in almost daily -- in our lives. We go on vacations with Jim and his family, he's like an uncle to the boys and has become like my brother over the past few years. He has really been there for us. And you know already that Linda and I are very close.
I will leave it up to them but I just think its very hard. -- especially because these two men are so close to me.
I too am happy that we seem to be getting along better and I hope we can keep it that way, but Eric and Jim have been huge parts of my support system during the very bad times and I think that it will be very hard to maintain active friendships.
I really don't want you to think I'm being intentionally mean, territorial or anything. I also don't want to speak for them...I just wanted to relay that Jim and Eric and very important people in our lives and it will be very weird -- for all -- to try to reconstruct what you had with them before.
Jaden's camp counselor just told me that he said something about going to the beach with you and the waves had carried him far off to the side and he couldn't see you (? Not sure exactly what he means) and he couldn't see you. Apparently she asked who was with him and he said no one, that the adults weren't in the water.
I haven't talked to Jaden yet, but the boys have just learned how to swim literally this summer and don't go to the beach often, so I would feel much more comfortable if you could stay close to them if possible. We also know someone whose 6 year old just died a couple of months ago (drowned in a pool and his parents were literally right there...and he could swim -- it was because of it that I pit the boys in a 10 day intensive swim class) so I'm extra sensitive about it.
I know…he has been lying a lot about little things and it has been going on for some time. I address it with him and his therapist has been working on it. And, yes, he has a lot of anger and jealously about Mariah and her kids that he hasn’t told me about but that does come up with his therapist. She has been working with him on it. But, I really don’t think he would steal anything…maybe intentionally hide it.
I also recently started seeing someone pretty seriously who he’s not happy about either. He has been acting out more again and we think it’s about that, even though he hasn’t met him yet but he knows of him. I was actually supposed to go away with him this weekend but cancelled my trip because Jaden was so unhappy / acting out. His behavior has been a problem and we’re working hard on it. I think it really is just a product of everything that has gone on…Jack was so young but Jaden had to deal with a lot.
Anyway, we’re working on it and I will let you know if I can find out anything about the iPod.
I’m still so pissed off about this. Jaden says he didn’t touch it and I believe him. YOU, as his FATHER, should believe him. He admitted to scribbling on Megan’s book. He told me about it too. He is angry and he is a CHILD. He acts out. The fact that you are accusing him of doing something to someone in your new family without being sensitive to the child that put up with so much trauma because of YOU and because of MARIAH and that you are sticking up for those kids and throwing yours under a bus is so sad.
I have been trying to take the high road lately and brush all the crap that has gone on, the crap that I read about that makes me want to keep my boys far away from you and Mariah, the crap that others tell me, the fact that you don’t support your own children and all you get $10,000 checks for doing nothing from Mariah’s family while I work my tail off to support the kids you also brought into this world… I have been trying to forget all that just to civil for the sake of Jaden and Jack.
But this really pushed me over the edge. That, combined with Mariah’s evil comments about MY CHILDREN.
Things were going well
...and then you and Mariah decided to accuse Jaden of something he didn’t do. And now posting half-truths about me on her blog. Why did I send you the emails I did? Because I am defending MY AMAZING SON that you and she judged.
Everything was FINE until you guys accused Jaden of stealing and then MARIAH posted about Jaden on Twitter. Even if it’s gone now, I saw it and grabbed a screenshot and it was WRONG.YOU and MARIAH are the ones that decided to get nasty – not with me, but with MY SON.
This isn’t about me – I don’t care WHAT you think about me. And, all of the friends you miss so much want nothing to do with you – they are still my friends…even “RM, the actor” – he didn’t get famous and fall out of the circle, he was also disgusted by you.
The reason I am mad is because you turned on your OWN SON and Mariah, who has NO RIGHT TO SAY ANYTHING ABOUT JADEN decided to get nasty about him.
And boy, was that a mistake because I am about to use every freaking bit of ammunition I have been holding back in court again. I will NOT have my boys around people like her who don’t treat them the way they should be treated. If my boyfriend treated the boys badly or said evil things about them, you wouldn’t be happy either. Of course, I would never be with someone like that.
In the morning.
I would have Mariah quit bad mouthing me on Twitter and talking about something she doesn’t know about. Isn’t it bad enough that your son hates you? Bad mouthing their mother isn’t going to help.
We have a conflict on 9/21 so unfortunately you will have to miss the visit that day.
Also - we will need to go back to court to discuss visitation in light of some serious issues that have been brought up - including that Jaden was injured at your home on his last visit because you allowed him and Jack to jump out of a window multiple times, my concerns about your drinking as well as the stability of the others in your household and their influence on Jaden and Jack.
You will receive notice of the court date via mail.
MY LAST EMAIL TO HER SAID THAT I DO NOT WANT HER TO EMAIL ME ANYMORE.
I can not deal with her BS anymore!
So if you thought that you were smart...think again.
I have BOLDED the FALSE facts.
Favorite cartoon growing up was the Bugs Bunny / Road Runner Hour
First time I was ‘in love’ was in 6th grade
I am an exhibitionist
I am self conscious about my breath
I am trained in martial arts
I burp and fart in public…and loud
I coach a youth sports team
I grew up in New Hampshire
I had sex for the first time at 13 years old
I have 2 brothers and 4 sisters
I have 3 fathers and 3 mothers
I have an average sized penis
I have an obsession with hula girls
I have, combined, spent more than a year in county jails
I joined the military in the 90’s
I like kids more than adults
I like the taste of blood
I moved into a fraternity house when I was 16
I never finished college
I used drugs and alcohol for the first time when I was 10
I was a regional track and field star in middle and high school
I was adopted
I was raped as an adult
I wish I was a teen in the 40’s
I’ve been shot at by several people at once
I’ve been snow skiing since the age of 2
I’ve gotten only one woman pregnant in my 40 years of life
I’ve held a person while they were beaten and killed
I’ve lived in 9 different states
I’ve watched someone commit suicide
My favorite animal is the Silverback Gorilla
My favorite game at a casino is craps
my favorite hard alcohol is Jack Daniels
My favorite hobby is fishing
My favorite movies of all time are; Goodfellas, Shawshank Redemption & The Godfather
My favorite music is Blues and Jazz
My favorite NFL team is the New York Giants
My favorite parts of a woman’s body are (in order); eyes, ass, lips
The last music CD I bought was in 2001
Three music genres that I can’t stand are; opera, heavy metal and musicals
Which three are NOT TRUE?
Friday, September 12, 2008
WARNING: This post WILL contain VULGAR language and TRAMATIC imagery.
As many of you know, I took my blog ‘private’ because my (soon to be) ex wife and her friends have been reading it…and using much of what I write against me.
I will give you all a bit of background and will do my best to get you up to date on where things stand as of today.
About 4 years ago, I realized that the woman that I fell in love with 18 years ago…was not the same woman that I married…actually, she was not a woman at all (not the way some of you sick, twisted fuckers are thinking) she was actually a psychotic, self-centered, fake-as-shit, fat, ugly, deceitful, non-sexual, nasty, egotistical, loud-mouth, fucking bitch of a person…but she IS…my baby’s mama. Even to this day...every time see or talk to her...it takes every inch of my will power not to vomit or poke her eyes out, knock her down and piss all over her.
It was September of 2005 when I finally had had enough of her and all of the shit that she dished out to me. Leaving was a very hard decision. I had two small boys, 4 and 1 1/2 , I knew though, that staying would be misery for us all.
The divorce proceedings began in December of 2005 and are STILL looming over my head. I am here, lingering in some divorce court limbo with that demon I was married to jabbing me in the face with her pitchfork at every opportunity.
Now, I understand her being upset with me…and I understand her general dislike for Insane Mama, but her tactics are so out of control that …. Well, let’s just say that I’ve had dreams that include; blood, severed body parts, ripped out intestines, wild animal attacks…well…I guess you know what I am getting at.
I will just name a few of the things that CUNT has done in her attempts to attack both Insane Mama and myself:
1. Refused to let me see or talk to my boys for almost a year
2. Insisted, in court, that a professional monitor must accompany me on all visits with the boys
3. Accused me of being an uncontrollable drug addict
4. Filed (and received) a restraining order against Insane Mama (provided fraudulent documents in court)
5. Changed lawyers every 6 months (for 3 years now) to slow the whole court process down
6. Schedules family trips and doctor appointments on my visitation days and does not offer opportunity for me to make up the visits
6.When I call the boys (every night) she puts the phone on speaker and monitors every word
7. Tells the boys to say things to me on the phone when we talk (i.e. “mommy wanted me to tell you about my play again…she said that maybe your were drunk or something and forgot.”
8. Is accusing me in court of neglect because my 7 year old got a scratch on his knee
9. Spends her free time trolling my and Insane Mama’s blogs for content that she thinks she can use in court against me
10. Published a whole blog to trash me and disparage my blog and my name
11. Continually threatens to call CPS on Insane Mama
Well…the list goes on…but I will spare you the additional 1,000 words.
As this story has...a lot of…substance…I will have to say that this post is…
TO BE CONTINUED…
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Hello Everyone ! (yes...this is a re-post)
This post is serving as my official notice that I will be going ‘private’.
Without getting into too much detail…I did not start blogging for DRAMA and that is what has started to happen. I invite you all to drop me an email if you would still like access to my blog. I will continue posting…and it may get even better once I am peeing in private!!!!
Please email me and I will grant you access…if you have the proper credentials. If you hae not been a regular here...please include your blog address... (provocative pictures, Social Security #, bank account info, finger print and mouth swab ...for DNA testing.)
I will be leaving this up for a few days…then you will need permission to access this blog.
Sorry that this needs to be so difficult…but I kind of like being all stealth and shit….I am Jason Bourne you know!!!!
I look forward to a long and prosperous life…peeing in my PRIVATE tent.
Thanks to you all for all of your support!!
Monday, September 8, 2008
When I look back at my past, I will say that my fondest memory would be at the age of 9, at my grandmother’s house in Newcastle, ME.
She had a large house on a private road. The house sat on a cliff, overlooking the Atlantic and bordered on two sides by a forest of large pine trees. I did love sitting out in the yard, looking out over the beautiful beach and watching the waves crash on the rocks below. My siblings and I had a great time climbing up and down the 50 foot cliff and playing at ‘our beach.’ But most of all…when thinking about this time…I can…still to this day, close my eyes and transport myself back to the pine forest surrounding the house.
I inhale and can smell the soothing aroma of pine. I walk barefoot on the ‘featherbed’ of pine needles that line the floor of the forest. The gentle crackling of the dried needles beneath my bare feet send tingles up my spine. I lie down, feeling the softness of the forest floor. Looking up, the tall pines shelter me on all sides. Large pine cones are scattered, as if sprinkles on a cupcake. I could sit there for days, walking, sitting and staring at the glimpses of sky through the tall bushy trees, rolling around…getting the needles stuck in my clothing and in my big head of hair. It is pure delight.
My love for that little forest of mine was enhanced by the constant smell of salt in the gentle ocean breeze, along with the feeling of being completely safe and secure in ‘My Pine Forest.’
Sunday, September 7, 2008
The domesticated, mature, sensible, man that I am….I do make runs to the grocery store. I like to go with Insane Mama. We work well as a team. One with the cart, one with the coupons…and both people watching.
Walking into the store, we have our mission and the plan of attack is simple. It seems though that after poking, prodding and squeezing everything in the first aisle (produce of course) we tend to get a bit bored. Not that grocery shopping for a gaggle of children is supposed to be fun…but yes…we get bored.
That is when we usually split up…not saying anything to each other…but both of us know what is coming. Insane Mama heads for the woman’s “personal feminine products” and I do a bee line for the beloved selection of condoms, lubes and such. After loading our cart with a nice assortment of “unmentionables” we head back to begin rummaging through the second aisle.
Why did we collect such an assortment of ‘goodies’ you ask? I’ll explain why this has become one of our favorite shopping pastimes.
You see…about 2 years ago…while at the grocery store. We were strolling along when this couple walked by…they were obviously in a bit of a tiff. Both glaring at one another and exchanging nasty comments. I thought it would be funny to, ‘stealthly’ drop a tube of “Tingly K-Y Jelly” into their basket when they were not looking. We followed them around the store until IT happened. The woman saw the K-Y and freaked on him. She was mortified…and the guy seemed to not know how to hold back a smile…while denying putting it into the cart.
We got a kick out of it and it has become a …shopping tradition.
Tampons for gay men, condoms for gay women, sex lube for snooty women and couples, lube for college kids, personal 'massagers' for prude looking women, extra large condoms for couples…and 65+ men, etc.
It tends to be the funniest if they don’t realize that the products are there until that are loading everything onto the register belt thingy. The looks on their faces are priceless. They always look at the cashier and the people right behind them to see who saw.
Anyway, I am SURE that the security personnel (the people watching the camera monitors) talk about us in their national corporate meetings.
Am I…are we…TOO CHILDISH?
Friday, September 5, 2008
I have always been a sports fan…not fanatic, but a fan none the less. I played a lot of sports as a kid, but since high school it has mostly just been recreational skiing, swimming and stuff like that. I, as an adult, never got into any organized sport or workout/exercise routine I love watching sports; football, soccer, hockey, boxing and in the late 80s, got into watching kickboxing.
When I moved to LA from Boston, in 1994, I had not done any kind of sport or regular workout for close to a decade (what a lame ass I am.) Then, through my work, I met a woman who was the publicist for a kickboxing trainer. She asked me if I’d like her to set me up with him…to work out and train at his gym. When I asked her what his name was she said that I most likely did not now him but his name was Benny Urquidez. I was floored! Of course I knew who he was…only the greatest kickboxer in the world! Benny “The Jet” Urquidez!!! I had idolized him since I started following the sport and was mad that he had retired a handful of years earlier. I quickly said that I’d love to train with him…”Where do I sign?”
Once she brought me out to meet Benny I knew that I would be his newest, subservient little ball of clay…to mold into a super warrior…like himself. On my first day at the gym…after peeing and pooing all over myself …out of pure fear…Benny explaind a bit about his history, the gym and its rules and what he teaches. I kind of just sat there in awe. I mean this guy is a legend. He started competing in amature kickboxing competitions at 5 years old, competed around the world, held championship belts in 4 weight divisions for more than 25 years and then, after retiring, came out of retirement at the age of 42 to fight the 25 year old Japanese world title holder…and won. Benny had NEVER lost a professional fight in his life.
I, an out of shape guy in my late 20’s, was scared. I told Benny that I wanted to train as a workout…to keep in shape …and know how to kick some ass! He corrected me and said…”workout …yes, kick ass…no…but I WILL teach you how to ‘defend’ yourself.” And that is where it started. I was at the gym 3 days a week (from freakin 6:30AM to 9 AM) It went slow at first…and they were some of the hardest workouts that I could ever imagine. He would get me to that point…where the puke is right around the corner and then he’d say, “NOW we can start training.” He explained that if our bodies were tired…we would not over-think the technique…he’s knows best.
It was not long before I started noticing that I was, indeed, getting into shape and was beginning to ‘float’ around the gym…hitting the bags right…and hard while whipping through the stretching and cardio parts of the workouts. That is when he sat me down and said that he was going to include me in his Saturday morning “Breakfast Bunch.” I was quick to ask for an explanation. He said that it was just a bunch of guys that he trains…who get together on Saturday mornings to spar. SPAR….are you fucking kidding me? I about vomited all over him. But…how could I say no?
So when we all met at the gym on Saturday morning I asked Benny if he really thought that I was ready for this or not. His response to me was, “Well, we’ll see. I have to see how you react …under pressure.” What the fuck? He wants to see me get my ass kicked. Talk about the butterflies…kicking the shit out of my stomach. Then after the butterflies get done with me…this group of guys that have been training with him for years...get to have their way with me. It ended up being ok. I found my confidence and held my own…from that point on…I loved Saturday mornings.
For the next several year I worked out with him and had the pleasure of becoming very close with his family. At the gym I worked out with many other fighters (amateur and professional) as well as celebrities. As Benny is a fight choreographer and fight instructor for the movie industry, there were many days that the gym seemed to be more of a celeb-fest than a kickboxing gym. From rock stars to movie actors…they all praised and adored “Sensei.” The best day was when he told me to meet him at another location and that I’d be working out with someone else. He did not say who…just gave the address as to where to meet him. When I got there, Benny showed me in and I almost shit myself…right on the floor of…John Cusack’s private gym. Benny made the introductions …and then “Johnny” proceeded to kick my ass. I did not realize that he was 6’4” and weighed about 220 lbs. He is a big guy. Anyway…that was quite the experience.
Close to the end of my marriage…in 2003…there was so much going on that I had to stop going to the gym. I was quite sad. I was in the best shape of my life, had more self confidence than I’ve ever had …and knew that I could indeed kick some ass.
I miss Benny. I miss my workouts. I miss my fucking, rock hard abs and sub 10% body fat.
DAMN!!!!!!!! Exceeding 40 and not working out can really fuck with a guy!
Fuck you, you fat, lazy, beer drinking, TV watching old man!!!!!
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Now that school has started up and Summer has come to an end, I thought that I’d get back into the swing of our ‘school year schedule.’ The kids are gone from 8AM until about 4 every day and we finally have time to get things done. Well… at least that is what is supposed to happen. Between our work, after school sports, homework, play dates and our (collectively) new addiction to the blogosphere, shit is still slipping through the cracks.
While grocery shopping the other day, I seem to have forgotten to buy cereal. When I noticed this last night, I went into “the back up storage” to fetch a box to put into the kitchen pantry. Smiling to myself, I was pleased with my preparedness…I actually HAD back-up. I rock…and the kids will eat some tasty Kellogg’s Honey Smacks!!!
13 year old Cody walked into the kitchen this morning to grab some cereal for breakfast and then he looked over at me and said, “ Um…I think this cereal is…a bit old.” I looked over at him, expecting to explain that they are NOT old and that if he wants breakfast…just to eat them. I did not say that…All I could do was laugh. Actually I burst into laughter…after spitting a bit of coffee across the room.
This is what Cody showed me.
Right...that cereal is OUT OF ITS BAG.
I guess one needs to be careful in what items go into the “back-up storage.”
What a great start to my day!!!!
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
OK….Fuck it….I’m just going to get it out in the open.
Maybe it is the overcast day, maybe I am the first guy to get his ‘period’, maybe I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed…but I am a bit …ruffled.
I will begin by saying that I blog for personal therapy, to share my life experiences and to get honest feedback from people about what I go through and what I’ve been through. I am typically not a “hater” and am not very concerned with my blog numbers. What I do care about is the blogging community’s etiquette and bloggers’ respect for each other.
Now I may make some enemies here and, as stated above…I could really NOT give a shit.
Where do I start? I am fairly new to blogging…I started blogging in July and this will be my 103 post. I do my best at networking to find a group of people who like to read what I write…and who I enjoy reading. Not that we need to like everything that each of us writes…but enough so that we visit each other’s blogs and comment on a regular basis.
As far as I am concerned, I do not think that just because I like you…or I have linked to you…that means you need to like me. BUT, out of respect, thanks, etiquette…or whatever…if I visit, read and comment on your blog every day…don’t you think that maybe you could swing by once in a while to leave a “thanks for the visits” comment…just for the sake of it? I am getting really turned off by the people who don’t do that…or can’t find the time to pull their heads out of Dooce’s vagina to drop a thank you to their loyal readers. That makes me think a few things: 1. That they are pompous ass holes that care nothing about their readers…only their numbers. 2. That what they write is over-prepared and lacking in the “this is me” arena. 3. That they are too wrapped up in themselves to remember what being polite means.
I don’t really mean to point fingers here, and I know that the blog/person that I am about to mention is not the only one…but it is one that I have had this very experience with.
OK…To set this up properly, the thing that gets to me is when you read and post on someone and they read and post on your blog…on a regular/daily basis…and then their comments stop while yours continue. Now I know that people loose readers all the time, but in cases like these, it feels more like some of these bloggers think that they’ve risen above the rest of us…that their ‘blogshit’ doesn’t stink and that they are too good for the regular folks. Topping that off, when I see posts on their blogs about their blogging powers, boasting about the number of readers that they have, making a run for the super-popular bloggers and writing made up, fantasy-esc stories about their families (when they claim that their blog is about them and their life)…I feel like kicking them …right in their Analytics!
Yes…I am speaking of Black Hockey Jesus – the guy with Hot Air In HIS Vagina. I have had him on my blogroll for 3 months. I, from the start commented daily. He did the same. I got comments from him on a regular basis. NOW…he has not left a comment since he went on his crusade to ‘beat’ Dooce. I continued reading him and …he is still on my blogroll. I hope that he comes back down to earth. I love his writing and think that he is funny as shit…but He is showing his uncaring, pompous, arrogant side these days. His blogroll only consists of people that get in excess of like 1,000 visits a day and those seem to be the only people that he comments on. Now, with the 30+ comments that he’s gotten so far on the post he put up today…my guess is that about 5 will receive comments from him. That is kind of FUCKED!!!!
Why did he stop commenting on my blog? Have I change my writing style or what I write about lately? NO! Did I bash him or stop reading or commenting on his site? NO! What is it? From what I can piece together…it is solely that his comments on my site will not bring him any new or additional traffic. That is fucked and I hope that when he reads this he can at least take a minute to understand where I am coming from …and maybe leave a comment to tell me why he no longer reads/comments on my blog.
Phew…… Glad I got that off my chest.
Again…he is NOT the only one. There are many mommy and daddy bloggers who are doing the same exact thing…I just saw it most clearly with him.
Shit….I hope he does not track me down and … challenge me to a trampoline contest…or …talk shit to the dead about me.
You all have any thoughts on this subject?
Dear (10 year old) TentCamper,
I am writing to you today to tell you that no matter how you might feel right now…things WILL change. I know that you are only in fourth grade and that people pick on you, call you names and beat you up, only because your skin is darker than theirs. You need to trust me, I have been exactly where you are right now and if you stay strong and show everyone that you are a nice, likeable boy, you will be fine.
When I was your age the same thing happened to me. I was scared to go to school most days and knew that I was going to be beat up by groups of bigger kids. The butterflies in my stomach were so bad most of the time that I threw up or just went straight into the nurse’s office to hide. I used to fight back, the best I could, but for the most part…I tried to be invisible. I did not want anyone to notice me. I stayed to myself, did not make waves and ALWAYS wanted to be alone. I was very lonely and wanted the other kids to like me…but I was too scared to take any chances.
Do you feel ‘hollow’ like I did? I hope not. It is a horrible way to feel. If you can, take only this advice; be yourself. Let everyone know just how funny, nice, cool and smart you really are. Tear down that wall that you have put up around you. Crawl out of that hole. Open your heart to others…even if you think that they won’t care. There will be no way that they won’t like you. I will tell you - that worked for me.
I was always a very kind, gentle, caring, funny, personable and sensitive child, but I never let other people know …only because I was scared of them. They never saw who I really was. Not until I was in 5th grade…that is when I let ‘ME’ out. And from that point on…not even my skin color could drag away some of the great friends that I’d made.
The last thing that I’d like to say to you…and you can believe me or not…You are going to have a great life. You are going to be important in the lives of many people and the happiness that you are going to bring them will change them forever.
My heart is with you.
For more great stories , check out Mama's Losin It
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
So, today is the first day of school for our kids. We have one in Kindergarten, one in Second, one in Fourth, one in Sixth, one in Eighth and one a Junior in High School. Yes…we have our hands full. Between the afterschool sports, Swimming, rock climbing, soccer, lacrosse, karate, homework help, making dinners and lunches…we barely have time to do anything.
I, wanting to step in and help out (be involved) offered both Insane Mama and myself to volunteer at the middle school twice a week for a few hours each day. We will be at the front gate checking people in. Now…I know…what was I thinking?…taking more of our time to sit at the school…we barely have enough time to buy groceries, clean the house, etc.
Now…I don’t know about you, but where we live…there are some VERY difficult parents. The city that we live in is a funny mix of people. Minus the elderly and homeless populations the city is split between, very laid back, cool, beach-going folks who just want to have their kids get a good education and enjoy life….and the very wealthy, snooty, obnoxious, controlling, uptight people who won’t let their kids be kids and who feel the need to get(DEEP) into everyone else’s shit (business).
Last year we did one day at the gate and had a good time. We played Scrabble and had an opportunity to “parent watch.” It was a blast sometimes, watching these ridiculous parents strolling in thinking that rules don’t apply to them and that their kids were the only ones who mattered. Not to mention what some of these freaks wore. It is scary when you see that mother of a 7th grader waltz into the school dressed like a mix between a hooker and a high school slut. How embarrassing is that for the kid? Anyway…we see all kinds and have gotten a kick out of it.
This year…I am having second thoughts…I want to participate with the school (NO PTA for me!!!!) but don’t know if 6 hours a week at the school will drive me insane or not. I guess, more that dressing like a slut…me peeing on people as they enter the school…might embarrass our two kids there.
Well, I have to go soon….and think that if all goes as planned…I will not pee on anyone but will have some decent content to post …twice a week.
Monday, September 1, 2008
So…just to tell you all up front, this post is solely out of …nothing else to write…and I think that it is kind of an interesting topic.
Now I will not, formally, say that it has been a topic of discussion or that we’ve done it…or that we’ve even fantasized about it, but I will say that my topic today is something that I think a lot of people talk about, think about and now…there is even a really good TV show (kind of) about it.
This post is going to be about threesomes. Can you safely have them? Will they destroy a relationship? Do one or both partners in the relationship always get jealous? These are my questions.
I will not speak of my past…young TentCamper was a bit of a player and …well…we’ll just keep it at that and go from where my head is and has been recently.
The thought of having a threesome is kind of hot. (Not admitting to waking up…hard as a pillar at Stonehenge at the though) I’d like to think that having threesomes would be a great way to add spice or something different to the mix in the bedroom, but then…what if it ruins a perfectly good relationship? I love Insane Mama and would not want to do anything to ruin that. Now I know that she finds certain women hot…not saying that she follows them around or tries to bed them down…but …we talk. That makes me think that this option is one that could be open to us.
The thought of her fooling around with another hottie in our bed…then both of them turning their attention to me (hold on…typing with one hand is getting ‘hard.’) Anyway…I know that it would not be far fetched for us to give it a shot…but do we even want to go there? What if she wanted me and another guy?
1. I feel that I would have some serious ‘issues’ with another naked man in my bed (see I Am Homophobic)
2. I feel that I would get jealous of another man with her
3. Seeing her with another woman would be…how do you guys say it? HHHHAAAAWWWWTTT (or something like that)
4. Having two women using and abusing me would be nothing that I’d complain about.
5. I would not want to do anything to make IM jealous or feel hurt.
6. I do want to try new things and have fun…but don’t know if rocking the boat would be a good idea.
We’ve sat and watched Swingers and commented talked about how fun it could be…what a great, open relationship the main swinging couple has and so on. We’ve bee out at bars and, while sitting at the bar or a table…pointed out hot girls and guys to one another.
We do have a very good relationship and , I think, can talk about anything with each other. We have a great sex life (ups and downs…but mostly ups.) We have fun together and enjoy all of the time that we spend together.
“If it ain’t broke…don’t fix it” comes to mind…but so does “Life is not worth living, unless you LIVE it.”
Saturday, August 30, 2008
30 years ago, I knew my destiny. Well… I guess that no 10 year old boy…in the 70s…really knew how his life would pan out.
10 year old TentCamper was (besides all of the shenanigans and altercations at school) quite a happy, fun and outgoing kid. In my neighborhood, I had some very good friends and we (and my 2 brothers and 3 sisters) spent every daylight hour playing games in the woods and out in the neighboring fields.
Besides the normal…get on your BMX bike (or in my case, the yellow Schwin with the big yellow banana seat) and ride over the unstable, plywood, unrealistically angled, ramp secured only by the pile of cut firewood strewn beneath it. Or the use the whole neighborhood for a game of capture the flag…we had our favorite - Vietnam
Vietnam (the rural New Hampshire game) had several differing versions. It really depended on our mood and who was playing. We had the POW version…(the sisters were involved there), where we would capture them, drag them out into the woods, tie them to trees or make cages out of tree branches and twine. The girls really did not like this version too much. Then there was the sniper version, during which we would split into two teams…the snipers and the ‘enemies’. The enemies would be sent to the field across the street and would have to wait 5 minutes to let the snipers get into position in the woods. Please note that the snipers all carried Rural NH versions of M-16s …I think they were called Daisy Pump-Action Pellet Guns. Then the ‘enemies would have to make it through the woods…any way they could…to the clearing on the other side. We also had Booby-Trap Vietnam. You can imagine what this game involved. Watching movies like Rambo, Hamburger Hill, Apocalypse Now, Force 10, etc…we were good. I hated being one of the enemies during this version…kids got HURT. We once, completely by accident, caught my little sister in a snare that hoisted her into the air . she was dangling by one foot about 4 feet in the air for about 2 hours. I got the “wooden Spoon” for that one…My mom did not believe in “The Belt.”
Anyway…I was GOOD! Rarely got snare, never got captured as a POW (mini TentCamper could run like the wind) and only had to have lead pellets removed by mom – and a pair of tweezers on a few occasions. I was convinced that I was going to be in the military. I would have made an exceptional sniper, spy, trap setter, demolition expert (ask my mom about our TV) and I could spot the enemy “miles” away. My cat-like, stealthy, movements and reflexes would make Jason Bourne, Rambo and Jack Bauer collectively cry out of jealousy.
My mother did not allow me to join the Army…she said that the Army would not allow a boy my age…but she would still use it as a threat when we were bad (which for me I’d smile at.) She said that when I turned 18…I could if I still wanted. That was the plan…skate through school til I was 18 and then get on a copter to wherever our military needed me.
After all was said and done…it never happened. By the time I was 18…I was on…”a different” track. Leading to places more like the ‘grey bar motel.’ Every time I started thinking about it…and wanting to join…something would happen in my life that would prohibit my enlisting.
I still think about it to date. Last year I called and emailed our local Marine and Army Recruiters and Reserves to let them know of my dreams…I could hear the chuckle (even through email) when they replied that a 40 year old guy with no training…other than the self taught, rural New Hampshire business…was probably not going to make the cut.
So these days, I would like to give a big shout out to, Jack Bauer, Jason Bourne, Ethan Hawke, Michael Schofield and all of the members of The Unit for bringing my imaginary life to the forefront of my head. I am living my dreams through you!!!!
I going to take you all back to Durham , NH…the year is 1976. I live with my mother, stepfather, 3 sisters, 2 brothers and our Golden Retriever Cinnamon. As you can imagine…the house was ‘hectic.’ Between us siblings…someone was always fighting. For the most part it was pretty amusing. I’m second oldest, I have an older sister, so I caused, instigated or was the bully in many of the fights. Some fights were physical, some emotional but they were ALL quite the show.
I have a memory of my youngest brother so mad at me(just for making fun of him) he swooped up the iron fire poker and chased me all over the house…until I was able to maneuver into my parent’s room (the only room in the house with a door that locks.) That made no difference because about 5 seconds later, after I hear some banging…I see the tip of the fire poker as it is smashing through the door. I had to jump from the second story to avoid that encounter.
On another sunny New Hampshire day…my middle brother and sister were going at it. I don’t even remember what it was all about…but what I do remember is that IT went on ALL day. At dinner that night, while our mom was still in the kitchen about to bring out our food, the two of them started up again. My brother was sitting at one end of our long table and my sister on the opposite side, in hopes that the arguing would cease. My brother kept egging her on and jabbing at her…That is until…out of nowhere, she picked up her fork and threw it (ninja style) across the table…the fucking thing hit my brother square between the eyes…and actually stuck there for 4 or 5 seconds…til we heard it clanking to the floor. ALL of us (mother included) just sat there, stunned, jaws on the floor…and wide-eyed.
After that night…we all thought twice about pushing middle sister too far. That was a scary little 8 year old.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Keeping up with the pace of life has proven to be quite the task for me these days. I know that in general, my life is a quite simple one…but that does not mean that the round object attached to my neck sees it that way.
My waking hours, each day, tend to be divided into 4 distinct mindsets…my only, involuntary, choices are the following:
tired and very unmotivated…(basically drained of life.)
short tempered and grumpy
playful and happy…actually more like childish
unfocussed and blurred…mind spinning, thoughts blurred and finding it hard to concentrate
When I sit, to ponder life…(who the heck am I?…Confucius?) I can’t help but to feel kind of stuck. Not in a way like I am going to give up or something…more like …when you really need to pee but you are in public and there are no bathrooms around and no bushes…or wind to pee into.
Now, by now, many of you know a bit about my past and know the basics of my current life. I will now take you for a dip in the swirling bubbles in my head…or as I like to call it…”my Jacuzzi.” Please be sure to pay attention and please…try to keep up.
I have a schedule and many things that need to get done each day. I get through those just fine…it is the ‘down time’ when my thoughts make even me think that I should be wearing a helmet and riding on the short bus.
An example of the string of unconnected and random thoughts that stream though the vastness of my cranium during these moments include;
-I will randomly bust out the first verse or two of Mary Had A Little Lamb (or some other nonsensical kid tune)
-Often times I can be heard barking like a large dog (while driving or walking down the street) mostly to watch the people around me looking for the beast about to attack them and finding nothing.
-I, out of nowhere, will recite a random grouping of numbers i.e. “3, 47, 25, 93, 62, 1, 7” and then act as if I had said nothing (while people give me odd looks.)
-I have moments when I will have vivid thoughts of planets, flying, war, chewing gum, pens, pizza and ants…all one directly after the other…and not knowing why I had any of these thoughts…and why my head would group such a random selection of seemingly unimportant things.
-I am known for my ‘What ifs”…what if a bird actually lived on my head? What if I could balance on my nose…without breaking it? What if I was a bee and I was scared of myself? What if clothing was never invented and everyone just walked around naked? Etc.
You may be whispering to yourself, “This guy is off his fucking rocker.” Or wondering why I am not locked up securely somewhere…or how I can make it through a day.
I think the same thing sometimes…believe me. I guess that I have just become used to the nonsense that trickles through my noggin from time to time. It used to scare me, but now…shit…it still scares me.
I know that I am not insane and often convince myself that everyone does that stuff…they just don’t admit it…or have some handy medication which makes them think that they did not have the thoughts.
Now I know that I’ve got some …’issues’ but I love my life (for the most part). I love my kids, I love my family, I love Insane Mama and her gaggle of beautiful offspring. I love the fact that I feel no fear in expressing myself. I love the fact that people love me.
So…to sum up…a Jacuzzi can be a confusing mess of jumbled thoughts…or it can be a fine place to take your clothes off, relax and enjoy life. It’s a nice mix.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
So I’ve heard that a few people have been nominated for the HOT BLOGGER CALENDAR, so I went over to check out the nominees and what did I see????
I’ve been nominated! That being the case, I figured I should post something that best represents me…the hottie that I am.
Please….ladies…I don’t usually do this for free…so don’t expect it all of the time.
VOTE FOR…. I Pee In The Wind !!!!!!!!!!!
I know that It is probably hard for you all to believe…but once upon a time…I was a child. A little tinkler – a mini pee'er. I ran around peeing on things and causing extreme havoc in every way that I could. Well…that was just sometimes. I went through a lot of phases as a little one. I wanted to; be in the military (a sniper or spy), a stunt man, O.J. Simpson, Wayne Gretzky, Indiana Jones….and a cowboy.
Yeah, yeah…I know…What kind of kid was I?...not wanting to be a fireman? OK…I am scared of fire. What the hell kind of fireman would I be?
Back to what I was trying to write about.
Now, for a number of years, and through many of the above ‘phases’ I had one special thing that rode it all out with me…my Saber Tooth Tiger tooth necklace. Now this was really a plastic replica of a tiger’s tooth…but to me…and the rest of the kids that I convinced…it WAS a Saber Tooth Tiger’s tooth. It was hard to convince most people, but I sure as shit gave it my all. Its plastic construction, visibly seem (from the mold,) its size and its weight were all working against my story. Still I did have a few kids that envied my most prized possession.
The string that it was on had to be replaced from time to time due to all of the attention that I gave it. It had basic twine, plastic string, a leather strap, kite string and even a sturdy electrical wire.
I loved and cherished this ancient, archaeological find of mine and there was not a sole on earth who could remove it from around my neck. We slept, showered, swam, played sports and went to school together…ALL THE TIME.
Here is a picture of me wearing it…during my cowboy phase (1976 or 77). Damn I’d be a cool ass cowboy (with a saber tooth tiger tooth around my neck.)
For more great stories visit Kathy
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
In the absence of coming up with something interesting and pertinent to write about today, I thought that I’d come clean on a very sensitive relationship issue. I know that this may cause some waves here at home, but…you know me….I Pee In The Wind.
Well, without beating around the bush…I’ll just come right out and say it.
I am having two love affairs! There …I said it. I don’t want you all to think that I am a bad person…or a foolish man for saying this where I know that Insane Mama will read all about it. I think that she already has some suspicions. I know that she sees me staring and smiling at them. She hears the discrete words of affection that drift from my mouth. And I’m sure that she does not miss the fireworks that go off within my eyes when I see them.
I don’t really try to hide these yearnings and strong emotions…and Insane Mama has hinted that she may be willing to share me with these two other loves. Now one of them has been my mistress for more than ten years and since that has been going so well, I picked up my newest love just a few years ago. Combined, their mix of beauty, sex appeal, no strings relationships…the fact that they will go anywhere with me and that…tingly feeling that I get inside when with them…is something that I don’t want to let go of.
When you read this Insane Mama…please know that YOU come first…always…But I do think that a foursome (all of us together) would be a great way for us to explore new things together.
That being said….I’d like you all to meet my mistresses.
The smooth refreshing wave of chilly goodness that flows from a bottle of Boston’s Samuel Adams Boston Lager mixed with the sexy wiggle of my collection of hula bobble dancers…makes me smile…every time I see them.
Wow….that was not as hard as I had thought.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Walking through the aisles of our local drug store, Insane Mama was sifting through the hordes of face creams, lotions and conditioners…shit that I know NOTHING about…Irish Spring does everything that I need. Anyway, as I wandered around the store…I just happened to find myself in front of “the goods.” Yes…by ”the goods” I mean…the section with all of the lubes, condoms…and “personal massagers.” I have no idea how I got there…I was NOT looking for them.
So, back to my story. I found it amusing to play with some of the sample “massagers” that they had out. Went from one to the next, examining them, turning them on…I NEVER touched any of then to the front of my pants! As I was having my fun checking them all out….I let out a frightened scream, “BBBBLLLLLAAAAAAAHHHHHH! Which I’m sure could have been heard all over the store.
All the sudden, Mariah came running around the corner and asked me what I was yelling about. So I explained to her what I had been doing…and then showed her what had frightened me. As I delicately picked up one of the banana shaped “personal massagers” and lifted it into the light, I pointed with my finger to the large black pubic hair caught in a seam on the ‘business end’ of the little vibrating thing.
As I threw it back on the shelf, we both looked at each other, internally puked and proceeded to remark how gross that was…while engaging in fits of uncontrollable laughter.
Did someone actually come into the store turn that thing on and stuff it down their pants?
…..Are you allowed to do that?
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Well, here goes with trying to air out an issue that I have been living with for a long time now. Now, none of you know me, not like we spend time together like my friends and family in “the real world” so I will try to make this simple.
I get a lot of shit from people saying that I am homophobic, hate gay men, am prejudiced, etc. I guess that I am, in a sort of way, but I am going to take this opportunity to explain. I have wanted to write this…and then not wanting to…I think that means that I should. I will give you the nutshell version and maybe one day the full details.
Over the past ten or fifteen years, I have been known to give dirty looks to gay men, glare at them with hate and even give them ‘fightin eyes’ while clenching up my fists. It is not that I have any real issue with their personal choices or that I have any problem with people being gay…just don’t do it or show it around me.
I used to live in an area where there were an abundance of gay men and every trip to the grocery store would get my blood boiling. Having men in the produce isle winking, smiling and making eyes at me just sent my head spiraling into REALLY BAD places.
The people in my life would always give me dirty looks and tell me to relax, let them be, take it as a compliment…or something like that. I try. What has gotten me to this place where I seem to be punishing all gay men is an experience that happened in 1993.
I lived in Boston and had been going through a hard time with going out and drinking a bit too much. On one night, I was at a bar near South Boston “Southie” and as I exited the bar, a bit inebriated, and began my stumble home I walked by an alley where all of the sudden a guy grabbed me from behind, put a large knife to my neck and led me out of sight. The guy was bigger than I, he had a big knife and I was drunk…not a good situation for protecting one’s self. Now I was ready to hand over my wallet and watch when I noticed that that was not what he wanted. Right. I was sexually assaulted by a man. Now I had not talked of this with many people because I felt that it made me feel like less of a man. I know that my choices in that alley were limited…I could have tried to fight, but the steel of the knife blade was a consistent reminder of reality, pressed to my neck. After the assault, I filed a police report, went to the hospital and then tried to forget. Shortly after the incident, I moved to CA.
I know that the gay men that I see in daily life are most likely NOT the man that did this to me, he probably was not even gay…just a sick drug addict or something…but my head has made a connection that I can’t seem to break. I know that I need to get past this because I don’t want to go through the rest of my life with that hatred in my head…so that is why I am posting this.
Yes – I can be serious and deep and personal…no pee in sight.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
As someone who is pretty straight forward and an avid People Watcher, I don’t think that I’ve mentioned to you all – until now – that “tourists” really get under my skin. Now, I know that pretty much everyone, including me, has been a tourist at one point or another, but…come on…if you are going to be a tourist, don’t act or dress like one. The strength that it is taking me now to hold back the burst of laughter (accompanied by indiscrete finger pointing) or the barely controllable urges to vomit is getting out of control.
I guess that it is the combination of many “tourist attributes” that get to me:
What they wear – black socks with sandals, fanny packs, camera around shoulder, clothing that is obviously NOT appropriate for where they are, etc.
How they talk – usually VERY loud, not in English, etc.
How they act – 9 times out of ten not polite, as if they are more important than any of us, disrespectful to people and the local environment
I don’t know…I mean I know that if I were visiting China, I would not be speaking Chinese or wearing a big sun hat or a Bruce Lee outfit, but I would try to fit in. I would show respect and do what I could to blend in. That being said, I have a hard time justifying my irritation towards tourists, but it still thrives. Maybe I am just a bad person…maybe I need to relax and just accept them as who they are. Fuck that! They annoy the shit out of me.
On our recent trip to the Sequoia National Forest, Insane Mama and I found ourselves utterly in awe of the immense number of tourists visiting form countries all over the world. It kind of makes me think of how lucky we are to live somewhere that everyone wants to visit, but at the same time….DO NOT come to my country and into MY FOREST and push me or walk in front of me while I am taking a picture. DO NOT show up with your family of 7 for a .5 mile FLAT hike with EVERYONE carrying brand new, telescoping walking sticks!(….even the freaking children). DO NOT Pass me on a hike without saying hello. DO NOT wear high heels and a dress for a hike through the woods. DO NOT skip looking in the mirror, at your outfit, if you are going somewhere. DO NOT allow your 4 children to run down to jump, scream and splash around in a river – right where 2 adults are trying to enjoy a quiet moment together. IT IS A BIG FUCKING RIVER!
NO…It was not just this trip. My last trips to water parks, amusement parks, beaches…..even the freaking GAP…all the same. Can we post some rules, basic ethics, manners, code of conduct….or whatever AT EVERY international airport so that sensitive (that is what I will call it) people, like me, can enjoy our nation’s visitors? Maybe we could start a Tourist Patrol...like he borde patrol...to monitor and correct improper behaviors.
PLEASE know that I am in NO WAY racist or have anything against foreigners….it IS the TOURIST mentality that I pee upon.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
I can honestly say that while camping in the Sequoia’s…I found …the softer side of TentCamper.
I also found …….. MY NEW BLOGGER ICON (PICTURE) !!!!!!!!!!!
Well...........WAHT DO YOU THINK?
Monday, August 18, 2008
After our first night camping, I woke to no signs (or stories from other campers) about bears having been in the campground that night. Believe me…I asked just about everyone. I was a bit disappointed and quite honestly…a bit scared to come back to you all with no bear stories. On our second night there, after sitting by the fire and carving a large stick that I’d found into the ‘world’s best bear spear’…to protect us from our impending encounter, we actually opened a big can of baked bean and left them on the table at the site next to ours (nobody was there…we are not that cruel) to see if we could attract a nice big bear that would enjoy this friendly offering. Again with NOTHING! Anyway, we spent two nights at that campground (full post to come) and then decided that maybe we should head deeper into the forest…”where the bears live” for a few nights.
At our second campground, which was DEEP into the National Forest, the campground was a bit on the empty side and we ended up with a pretty cool site, in the woods right on the edge of the Kings River. We drove around the campground until we had found the site that bears would like the most. Again…NOTHING! I got a bit pissed and started “accidentally” dropping food around our site…and even calling into the woods, “bears….oh bears….come out and play”…Along with other ridiculous absurdities. At the site right next to us, there were 2 guys and a woman who were from another country and obviously did not know that being nice…and social with the campers around you was the proper thing to do. We did not like them…for that reason…UNTIL…on the second night, I heard one of the guys from that site yell, “BEAR!” and then start banging on a pan with a rock that he’d picked up. My eyes widened (out of excitement, not fear) and I jumped out of my chair. I turned and called for Insane Mama, who was in the tent …putzing around, to get her ass out of the tent. I grabbed my bear spear and basically threw it at Mariah while I snatched up our camera and ran to catch up with our neighbor, who was trailing the bear, warning the campers ahead of him.
When I reached him (in like 2 seconds), I asked him where the bear was and he pointed ….I saw it! In the dark I saw the outline of a fairly big bear. I had to get closer. I was going to get a picture of this beast. Armed only with my little digital camera, I darted toward the big black outline as he (or she) made it onto a campsite across the way. The bear stopped at the picnic table (where some idiots had left out trail mix and dried dates…I will thank them later.) The bear stood up and cleared things from the table and grabbed what it wanted. Meanwhile, people were yelling, throwing rocks and sticks at the ground near it, banging pans and blowing whistles…all of this while crept forward until I was about 15 feet from it. I started snapping pictures. They were coming out all black…not enough light. I fidgeted with all of the settings, snapping as I went…not really paying any attention to the 500 pound bear who could have reached my position in about 3 seconds if it wanted to. Seeing the bear only through the camera’s viewfinder, I took about 15 pictures before the bear started to move on towards the next loop of campsites. I did not care what the others were doing…I HAD to get a good shot. I trailed the bear into the woods. Once I came to the next campsite, where a large Chinese family was camping, I warned them and asked the dad if he’d seen the bear. I then heard an young voice from inside the tent a young boy’s voice frantically say, “Is it going to eat us? Are we going to DIE?” I, noticing that the bear was gone…and I was the only one who had followed it into the woods, decided to tell the family that they’d be fine and then I turned back through the woods.
As I got back to the site where thee bear took the food, I heard the woman yelling at her ??? husband that he had better get them packed and the hell out of there within the next few minutes. This lady really meant what she was saying. I did not stop, and when I got back to our site, Mariah was sitting by the fire awaiting my triumphant bear story and pictures (although her face said something like this, “ok…what happened? Oooohh….you saw a bear?...wow…want a medal? You really are my hero….NOT!”
Anyway I told her about the “chase” after she informed me that as soon as I tossed my “Bear Spear” to her…she just returned to our site for a glass of wine. I guess seeing a bear was not such a big deal for her. She swiped the camera from my hands and started going through the last bunch of images taken and then looked up at me, shaking her head and said, “there is nothing here…it’s all black.” I told her that with the magic of Photoshop…I could get them to come out.
Here is what I have to show for all of my efforts.
Ok Folks….No need to worry…Insane Mama and I are back from Sequoia and King’s Canyon.
I have to say that it was one of the most incredible camping trips that I have ever been on. We stayed at 3 different campgrounds, saw some HUGE-ASS trees, frolicked in streams and rivers, hiked to waterfalls and famous meadows, made friends with forest creatures (mostly Insane Mama), tracked rampaging bears at night ….and lastly, saved the Sequoias from burning down today.
Posts on all of the above will be forthcoming and I hope that the post I had up whilst away did not turn any of you into ‘haters.’
I have to run and help IM unpack the car….damn!
I’ll be catching up with you all this evening.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
I want to start by saying that I do not want to offend anyone…That is not my intention at all with this post. Maybe I just need to understand a few things at a more in-depth level...while I am on vacation
If any of you can clear some of this up for me…PLEASE use the comments to do so.
Is it me…or are these random awards that are going around a stupid waste of time? OK, I’ve received a few and I appreciate the gestures…I really do…but I really think that if you like a blog…put it on your blogroll, or post something about why you like them on your blog.
As for TAG…oh…for the love of Pete! Come on! I totally don’t get it
Guest Bloggers…This kind of ticks me off…I mean, I go to your blogs to read YOU…not some other person…that if I liked said person...I would go to their blog. If your are going away…post something saying so and that you will fill everyone in when you get back.
With regard to most of the blogs that I read…I like to read you because you are (seemingly) honest and talk about your life in an interesting way. When you claim to use your blog to vent and “journal” yet you fill your blog, on a daily basis with photos or links to other bloggers…I just don’t get it. If you have nothing to vent or journal about…shit…make something up or post something from your past. To me…that would be better than clicking over to find Makeover Monday, Time Out Tuesday, Wordless Wednesday, Thoughtless Thursday, Photo Friday, etc. (Not that I don't like these... I guess I would rather just HEAR from YOU)
I do get that people want traffic and I understand that not everyone has something that they feel is important to say every day…I sure as hell don’t, but I LIKE YOU ALL and want to hear about you and your life, no matter how small.
I think that most of you would agree with me that even if we did not all post everyday, that if they were honest posts about our lives…the readers would be there.
As you can see from your stats and/or my comments…I visit you all every day. I will continue doing so as long as I’m able to read the impressive postings that I have found on all of your blogs.
Now…I am not trying to kill MY traffic or offend anyone, but I just don’t get it sometimes. Please help me understand. SCHOOL ME !!!!!!!!!!!!!
I don’t have much time to write this morning as I have to get 4 kids off to the airport and then get on the road to go camping with Insane Mama.
We will be camping in the Sequoia National Forest for the nest 5 or 6 days and I, being a kind of spur of the moment kind of guy, do not have anything written to schedule for while I am away. That being said…you will not see any new posts from me…other than the one that I will put up shortly.
Please keep your eye on the news for anything on bear attacks, gunmen on the loose, forest fires or any other random violent happenings in the Sequoia National Forest.
We will return (I hope) with lots of pictures and material to post for your enjoyment, next week.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
This post will be another fine example of TentCamper’s ability to pee into the wind…or at least an example of my inane ability to attract bad luck. Now this ability is not something that I was born with, it is a skill that was honed. Proof that there is a warrior within this big-bladdered tenter.
Since I started blogging, I’ve not only had a continuous string of comments and the ever-present Insane Mama sticking forks in my eyes about my horrendous spelling and grammar mistakes on both my posts and the comments that I leave for others. For the most part I shrug and don’t really care if someone thinks my spelling sucks, but it is when I write something and it is SO wrong that people don’t have any clue what I am trying to say. Well…that and the constant twists of that fork in my eye are getting quite irritating.
Now, I have never professed to be good at spelling…or grammar for that matter, but within the walls of this post I will offer you the reasoning behind these child-like errors.
At first I thought that it was just me and my making stupid, careless errors…and not re-reading my posts before hitting that infamous Publish button, but then I noticed that certain keys on my keyboard just did not work right. Since you all know Insane Mama, I’m sure that you believe that when I would cuss and flip off my keyboard, she would roll her eyes and say, “yeah…ok…it’s your keyboard.” And then whisper something derogatory about me and my typing skills under her breath. Her love never ceases to amaze me.
Anyway, my cheap ass finally got fed up and ventured off to Best Buy for a new keyboard. First of all I did not expect there to be like 5 million different keyboards to choose from…and also did not expect that some of them exceeded $100 freakin bucks. After milling around the computer area for about 15 minutes, looking for the best, basic keyboard, I turned to the sales guy and said, “can you just get me a basic keyboard? And I won’t spend more than $30 on it.” The guy gave me a “Cheap Ass” look and in about a minute was back in front of me with a keyboard that looked pretty sweet to me. It had some sort of extra buttons on the sides for quick access to things like internet, email, volume, etc. I grabbed the box from the guy and headed to the check out area.
After getting home, I bee lined it to my computer, whipped out the keyboard and plugged her in. I was ready for the test drive!!!!
I opened Word and typed and typed…seemingly for hours (I think it was closer to 5 minutes though.) HOLY SHIT….NO mistakes!!!!! I was thoroughly impressed with my purchase and had a sort of scholarly feel come over me…I even sat up straight in my chair as I opened Blogger and started drafting my first post with my new baby.
I got done writing the post and decided to copy and paste it over to Word…just to check on how things went. As I pasted into Word….WORD FLIPPED ME OFF!!! There was a big middle finger on the screen and below it there were words that read, “You fucking stupid ass. Learn how to type. I can’t even figure out what you are trying to say in the document.”
My face dropped. I had no idea what had happened. A minute ago everything was fine…now it seems that I am in worse shape than before. I started a new Word document and slowly started typing…then I saw it…letters changed and flipped around in the words as I was writing…Auto-Correct was on! No wonder I thought the new keyboard was so great. Shit. What now….Sylvan Learning Institute?
I shrunk back into my worthless, 3rd grade English writing, taking abuse and insults from everyone shell…until…..Insane Mama had to use my computer the other day. She had to write something to print and I am hooked to the printer. When I got home she walked up to me, slugged me in the stomach and yelled, “YOUR KEYBOARD SUCKS ASS!!!!!!!!!!!” Then she hugged me and apologized for the tap in the gut and proceeded to attempt to “take back” all of the nasty things that she had said about my writing. Finally removing that freaking fork from my eye.
Now what? FUCK keyboards!
I need voice recognition dictation software….I’ll go ultra high tech!!!!!
Monday, August 11, 2008
Insane Mama's 16 year old, Amanda, has been working at the local coffee shop for the whole summer this year. It has been great…as we now get a nice discount when we go in for our “pick-me-ups.” Now, having her working a real job and all of the responsibilities that come along with it have been a good thing for her this summer.
She has made some good friends (co-workers) and has been able to keep out of trouble (as much as a teenager can.) We actually find it quite soothing to the mind when we know that she is at work. We know where she is and that she can’t do any of those “dumb teenager things” that she and her friends tend to do sometimes.
So, the shop that she works at is one that I frequent and that I’ve spent a day or two (….well, maybe more) sitting out on the patio sipping coffee while working on my laptop. I know some of the regulars and have had many opportunities to sit there and people watch; witnessing first dates, hook ups, arguments, people with horrendous eating habits…and pervs scouring the patio for unsuspecting women sitting alone.
To get to my point,
About two weeks ago, Amanda came and told Insane Mama and I that this guy came in and was hitting on her and that he gave her his phone number. She is a very cute girl so I really did not think twice about it….until she said that he was in his 50’s. SHE IS 16!!!!!
I told her to give me the number and that I was going to call him and pee on him…right through the phone! (I actually said that I was going to insist that he not speak to her anymore.) She said that she’d like to handle it and that she would let her boss know. We agreed to let her take care of it, as that was the responsible thing to do.
She said that her boss told him not to talk to her while she was at work. And over the past two weeks the guy had been in but had not said much to her. I can imagine what kind of looks he shot at her, over his steamy coffee.
Yesterday, I was driving Amanda to a friend’s house across town and she proceeded to tell me that “the guy” came in again and that on her break he followed her out to her car and …
Guy – hey, so you are off now…I can talk to you since you are not working…right?
Amanda – I am just moving my car…I am still working …and I have to go inside
Guy – you still have my number don’t you?
Amanda – ….uh….yeah, sure
Guy – you should call me sometime…we can hang out
Amanda – I think that I am WAY too young for you…I’m only 16
Guy – I’m not talking about marriage here…just going out and having some fun, movies, eating out…you know
Amanda – I have to go now
Guy – when do you get off?
Amanda – I really have to go now
Guy – OK, well…call me
Amanda – ….yeah…sure
Guy – when are you working next?
Amanda – I don’t know…but I have to go.
The whole time Amanda was telling me this my blood was heating and all I could do was say things like, “Your kidding? He said that? He’s sick”, etc. I was battling vsions of me cracking this guy's head open and pissing onto his bleeding corpse. I asked her for more detail about what he looked like, since I either knew or recognized many of the regulars there….she explained what he looked like…but I got nothing.
I asked he when she was working next and she said, "Tuesday." I let her know that I would be there all day on Tuesday and that I needed to have a talk with Pervy McPediphile. She nodded and said, “OK…cool.”
Now, I have discussed my plans with Insane Mama and she is all for it. The issue now is…what to do with this guy.
Walk right up to him, point at Amanda, ask him if he knows her…upon his response…punch his lights out…while explaining to him that his behavior will not be tolerated.
Get in his face, scream and yell threats on his life
Look him square in the eyes and say that if I ever hear of him ever speaking to her (even to order coffee) again…that he would be in for it. (all of that with the most serious tone and with the “serious” eyes)
Have the manager (who I know) there with me to inform him that he is no longer welcome at the shop
Wait til he leaves and follow him home…maybe kick his ass there.
….there are so many options.
I don’t need to get into any trouble…but she is Insane Mama’s little 16 year old
I don’t want to set a bad example for her as how to handle a bad situation
I don’t want this guy to think he will be tolerated
I don’t want a murder charge
PLEASE HELP ME!!!!!!!!!! I only have until Tuesday morning to figure out what to do.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
This friend of mine joined the Peace Corps a few years ago. He was a young guy and wanted to do something special…something for others. He was soon sent off to some desert area near Egypt for his first mission (or whatever they call it) to help build school houses and teach children in need. What a great guy. Smart, loving, dedicated, honest and giving.
Anyway, when he returned we got together for a few beers and to talk about his “journey.” After he had downed more than a pitcher, he began telling me a story that I don’t think he ever intended on telling anyone…but I just sat there nodding my head…and listening.
The story goes as follows:
“So once I got to the desert Corps camp, I was shown into the camp manager’s office. He had me sit down and proceeded to go over all of the rules, timelines, jobs, personnel, etc. When he was done he showed me to my bunk house. I got my stuff situated and joined up with the rest of the workers and started on my journey to help those in need. After a few weeks, I noticed (out of nothing more than my manly urges) that there were no women at the camp. I brought it up to one of my co-workers who said that due to the local customs, women were not allowed to work here and that I should go talk about it with the camp manager. I was a bit embarrassed so I did nothing about it at the time. After a few more weeks, the urges were getting pretty bad and the sleeping quarters and showers were not conducive for pleasuring my self. I decided to bite the bullet and go talk to the camp manager about it.
I went into the office and told the camp manager that I’d been there for more than 6 weeks and was wondering if there were any women that were around…I was getting pretty frustrated and kind of wanted some release. The manager looked at me and said, “Well…around the back of the office…there is a camel…” I cut him off there and said, “Thanks but I’ll be ok.” And I bolted from the office.
It was about a month later when I went back to the office, basically clutching my groin…as if I were going to explode. I told the manager, again, about my situation and he once again said, “OK, there is a camel in the barn behind this building and that is what most of the guys here use…” I cut him off again and ran from the office…thinking about how nasty that would be…especially after all off these other guys…fuck that!
Now I had been there for 3 and a half months…I ran into the manager’s office, with duress on my face. I sternly asked about that camel. He pointed out the back window to the barn. I ran out the door and around to the barn. After grabbing a stool from the side of the barn and placing it behind the tied up camel, I jumped up on the stool, ripped my pants down, lifted the camel’s tail and ….OH MY GOD! I have to say that it did not take me long at all. It did not even really click that it was a camel until after…and at that point…I didn’t care.
I ran back into the manager’s office, with a huge grin on my face and said, “That was great!...Can I do that whenever I want?” The manager looked at me with the strangest eyes that I’d ever seen and said, “what the hell are you talking about? What happened?” I told him that I grabbed a stool from the side of the barn and placed it behind the tied up camel, I jumped up on the stool, ripped my pants down, lifted the camel’s tail and …you know. The manager, let his head fall into his hands and then, after a few seconds, looked up at me with a shitty grin and said to me, “Holy shit boy! Most of the guys get the camel and ride it into the town about 20 miles east of here!”
That was my last day at that camp…I insisted on being transferred to a completely different region where I finished out my 6 months...from that point on…I decided to wait til I got back to the states to get laid.”
I have to say that I really hope that this story was not true…I never brought it up with him again, but these days I’m thinking that he’s not as smart as I used to think he was.