....All This Is Just Temporary...

I remember writing the different pieces from my past. The emotions that I had felt, the desires, the fears all resonated from within the pages. When I can't sleep my mind starts to work over-time in the worst way possible. The lines become blurred and the individual thought processes bleed over one another. These processes grow wild and before I can begin to sort out the nonsense I am already consumed.

There are so many ways to describe the feeling. With each there is certainly a true relation with varying degrees of relevance. Some might say it feels like trying to get up while others push you down with full force and you never get up, others may relate it to drowning, falling, that nauseous feeling right before you throw up. My favorite is Driving a car with a blindfold on.

Everything is coming at you full force and the only thing you can really do is brave it out. Hopefully your vehicle is as good as your conviction and you're driving an armored truck. Regardless of the damage you will most likely arrive at your destination with minimal scrapes and bruises. I can relate close to this but the story is never about the scrapes and bruises, its what causes them. The imagination is never as tame as reality. We prepare for blows that will surely bring the chapters of life to a close, all for it to really not be that bad.

This is a very good reason why I love getting tattoos. The reality is that there are needles that are perforating your skin over and over to feel almost like  a constant consistent scraping. I have done it plenty of times and I still get amped up, because we don't know.

We have the idea but it is very rarely the same thing.

But once the tattoo outlines and so on are on their way, you get used to it and it's just another thing.

Currently I am exaggerating my chest piece sensation which has greatly stunted the growth of that plan but sure enough I'll come to find that it wont be that bad.

The point is that we never know what hand we are dealt for each coming day. The natural rhythm eventually lays itself out and we walk the beat.

It is very important to understand the balance between the two ideas; the perception, and the reality, because it does say volumes about the character. I think about cassette tapes and it comes to me that we can waste our time just fast-forwarding through the content for that destination song and then end up missing it altogether. We are so used to the DVD/CD/MP3 format of just skipping to the next scene and getting away from the endurance trial of listening to the songs that you didn't find on the radio. It always good to accomplish something. The music flows and tells a story of our lives. Much like the decisions we make are testaments of who we are.

The bottom line is that the reality shows us the role of an act in a timeline, the perception is obviously an exaggerated scenario but the criticism comes from neglecting the fact that it is very real when lived first hand. The first kiss scenario comes to mind because it is the most basic of instinct with outlandish perception. For a man with any sense and a caring heart courts a possible lady to be there are a wide array of the end results and whatever the girl is left to assume or believe is beyond my own scope so this is all about the guy in this example.

Side Bar: I am sure there are plenty of people that date just to pass the time, but I think it is ridiculous to ignore the fact that dating leads to relationships and marriage if it does graduate to such a level. We meet someone and based on their personalities we try and see how the lives can merge into a beautiful union, and that is what dating and the beginning stages of a relationship are really, a trial to see if this is the Man/Woman that I will spend the rest of my life with. But I digress...

The poor sap finds himself in a position where he is out and about with the girl that has caught the twinkle in his eye. He is having a good time, he is himself and she's laughing. The date is going well. Time drop her off at her place and the whole time you know that she is someone you want to explore life with. You want to kiss her but you're afraid. The reality here, saying the date went well, is that she is most likely feeling him too since she agreed on the date in the first place and has hopefully has had a good enough time and feel comfortable with the little cute elementary peck on the lips. However this is not apparent to the guy in question, he is already thinking about the worst case and best case, and there in lies the problem, there is only one best case scenario and what seems like and infinite number of awful wrap ups. The most trying would be the awkwardness of mixed signals and that is never pretty.

The point is that the 20-30 minutes it takes to wrap up the evening comes with the daunting questions. Sure you'll come to find that you had nothing to worry about at all but the journey is wicked, and that balance is very important because what we are willing to go through is never disclosed information, and there is very little that we can do to communicate. So we weather the storms, keep a sunny disposition and trust that everything is going to be alright. When you find yourself in a situation that you know is going to be a big part of your life there are never doubts and the "trouble", just like the tattoo needle all just get lost in the process, and you enjoy the fruits of your labor. That is something no one can take away from you.. Just breathe and stay calm and remember.....

When I was younger I used to always cry during stressful times. I got my first suspension in 3rd grade for a fight I didn't even get start, or for that matter, participate in. I cried whenever I thought I was in trouble, I would whimper in the corner as the impending doom came upon me like a gavel on its stomp.

Somewhere along these stories are remnants of music flowing in between with their fibrous stronghold on the sequence of our lives.

Simply put, the way things were. And all along we had the faith. No matter how hard I cried, I knew I'd be alright.

I think at some point we need to. Not in the literal sense of blubbering on and on about things, but that isn't a completely terrible way to deal with things. It helps to keep reality in perspective, where we know when our will is tested and we fight til our energy drips off our fingertips like the leaky faucets found in poorly renovated inner-city studios.

It's almost liberating.

I remember almost drowning as a child. I was in my early teenage years and I realize now how little direction I was ever given. I had gone off swimming towards the island I could make out in the distance. It seemed to be no more than 90 yards away as I thought about exploring the sands of some hidden passage that led to stories worth sharing. I swam out despite the constant warnings I had hear about the current that pulls you under if you don't swim past it fast enough. The ground under the lake shore had broken off into an underwater cliff and the pull down was wicked. The force you remember as you played with the vacuum taunting the family dog by attacking his jowls.

But I kept swimming. I gently propelled my body towards the island. The shining sun was stronger than usual this afternoon, the sound of children playing in the shallow mouth, the smokey aroma of barbecued Hispanic food, the crisp click of beer cans opening echoed through the trees just like you see in the movies. Through the powerful rays of the sun that pierced the water's surface I could see the abysmal depths I had been warned about, and no sooner did I stare briefly into that darkness had I been dragged down. The force had consumed my legs in a relentless vice pulling me down. I kicked my legs and fanned my arms. I paddled so hard my bones ached.

I could feel the pressure come on. Light at first with a steady escalating weight pushing me down. I could feel the rocky edges tear away at my arms, the slight sting of broken skin has begun to take precedent over my body. The air in my lungs had grown thin. All the while my mind racing through thought-cycles pacing light years per mili-second.

This was it.

So much I would never know. So much I would never experience.

You never really stop to fully understand the fear that goes through a child's mind when faced with such reality. We all think the politically correct way "understanding" children's struggles and always talking about youth and never about what it must really be like to not know but understand that you will never do anything else.

The chapter end here. What have I got to show for it?

In the distance I can hear the light high-pitch clicking of rocks hitting each other from the falling debris. I could differentiate tears from the fresh water tomb. So I kept kicking.

That elevator-door-effect really holds its place as the gradient De-briefing of one's existence. The oxygen had been gone for minutes. I had been holding on like a fool. Barely moving. I shouted with the most primal desire to survive, yet I could not move.

Then all was quiet.

That rapid lift feeling on an express elevator heading up 12 stories rocketed my body, guiding me.

My head shot out of the waters surface like a bullet. The first breath was as harsh as it was enchanting. The shock had taken over, I had barely realized where I was. Splashing around trying to get to my feet. The broken rock had torn my knees up something fierce. As I stood up on the near by fallen trunk, knees bloodied, scraped, stomach in the same fashion. My eyes were pulsating from within their sockets. My skin felt warm being caressed by the sun yet I trembled from within.

I had no idea what happened, But I knew I was gonna be alright.

Fuse.

He sits alone surrounded by walls, guilty of seeping light. He's cold and although surrounded by peers of his kind he feels so alone. It hasn't come to mind how long its been. The best explanation fails his thoughts.

the click, click, click of rolling film. The comforting heat of the dimly lit lamp. The passing sounds provide the soundtrack for the evening collaborating the diminishing lines of graphite, soaring through the tip tap through typing. Also what has become the soft whisper of music in the background. Perhaps his thoughts rewinding and fast forwarding.

For a second it had almost ceased. The calm nights tucked away in reveries featuring trysts starring passionately locked lips likely to keep such a promise alive.

And so it was.

For lack of a better word...

Perfect.




Suppose the world could only be communicated through association. What would it take to muster up the courage.  Despite the dangerous ways of nature, as the Sea 's infamy of claiming the lives of so many, the fisherman sets sail.


The alarms of passing fire trucks and ambulances paint the night sky as if the sound could be traced along the stars. The low hum of the realms keep me grounded.

Roll film.

Weeks to months of torment can be seen in seconds to the mind of an insecure man. Years and eternity can be over in minutes. Frame by frame as the plays and re-runs of moments past, analyzed in complete retrospect and the fuse is lit.

The distance grows and I am but a hand grenade begging to be held. Fear me not as I am helpless. Please put me back together.

Yet a second of compassion could have preserved a life worth writing about. Stories worth passing on to children and lovers, friends and family. to provide inspiration, as the single greatest commodity known to man.

Time.

The ultimate challenge to the ultimate combatant. The time to spend, to cherish, The time afforded to discover what can never be recorded in maps or graphs.

The pin hits the floor. Counting down.

7.

It's unbearable to digest the delicate piercing pitch of steel as it meets concrete. A mesmerizing note that travels through the air seducing all within its range while simultaneously deafening the world around while counting down.

6.

The beads of sweat, choreographed to sojourn past a beaded brow of an army of men as the echo of their lives reverberate through space as the plume of smoke rises from cindered ash, providing the single greatest proof of every truth held dear. A walk on the beach, The first kiss, the remnant elements of the day your life became complete, now counting down.

5.

The pulse of time closes to a steady pace. The fabric barely grazes the flesh. The air lathers the tips of the hairs on the nape of their necks softening the mind while counting down.

4.

The heartbeats grow fainter. Beating in unison. In this moment we realize we wont die alone. We don't have to fight alone. And all I want is to be held, please put me back together. I promise it wont hurt, instead they're counting down.

3.

The shrapnel fragments burst in all direction, the original designs for the design come from a man who spent his own time and money to develop the artillery; such a noble way to ensure the defense and survival  while ironically counting down.

2.

The paralyzing fear has already decided their fates. And All I wanted was to be held, to be put back together, to given a shot to be something more, to find the profound in the mundane, to enrich the degraded, and uncover an opportunity to be something more.

Vessels run cool, the last beat passes as the numbing sensation tickles their bones where before it happens you already know you wont feel a thing, the mezzo piano bleeds into mezzo forte and the crescendo of the climax culminates all while counting.....

DAMMIT.

Today was an interesting day.

Plain and simple.

It is easy to get lost in the observations of others, before long you realize that we have completely stopped evaluating ourselves. Checking ourselves in a sense.

Now to those people that go on about not needing to be put in check or they aren't going to kiss someones ass, you can go ahead and see where you get in life by thinking that shit.

EVERYBODY needs to be put in check, you, me, Tiger Woods, Jesse James, hell even the asshole that allowed the Alabama bill to pass that basically racially profiles anyone who isn't white and inbred.

It is a difficult moment when you realize that you need to check yourself. It's like walking in on yourself masturbating.

The point is we all stray from our point one way or another.

In the constant battle between Social media and angry house wives as to who is responsible for child aggression, is it the movies and games that they are subject to and their publishers, or is it the lack of control that we hold in our homes that leave our young to roam free and explore.

Keep in mind I am not saying the parents in this situation are bad people at all, Its just kids are getting way too sneaky thanks to Nickelodeon's line up of shows that constantly influence the intelligence of our youth and by GOD they are getting smarter.

Responsibility plays a huge role in both scenarios and the only focus is on two facotrs and no one mentions the kids.

Why do we completely ignore the fact that children can think and act for themselves. There is only a finite amount of knowledge we can pass down to them and everything else will eventually come through experience and we are so concerned with arguments and controversy that we forget this point of view.

The bottom line is that responsibility and accountability is something that we will all take on at some point in our lives. It is important to understand this and relate this to others because quite frankly we're fucked here on earth.

Let's make the best of it.

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First satisfied customer.

Tattoo progress... Done and what's to come.

social networking is the only susbstitute for Heroin

Image via WikipediaGoogle+ eh?

I get it, seems pretty cool, I bet tons of hipsters already use this because we've probably never heard of it before. And for that I say go fuck yourself.

In any case, with the misfortune of working with tech on a daily basis I already began having these conversations as to whether or not the Google+ compatibility exists.

Really?


It's switching one addiction ( Facebook ) for another social networking fix.


Do we really need another distraction?

It seems that each distraction brings us closer to total failure as a race.

At first there were glittery backdrops for the Myspace, then there was some collegian effort towards formality with FaceBook, and now what is the goal?

Is it to make Mail order brides easier to find? How long before we integrate our entire lives in social networking and in turn get hacked and lose our life's everything?

Personally with the rep that Google has now I don't even know what is to come and I'm really not sure if thi is the business that they should be in.

All I know is if Apple sets up a social networking site I am going to lose my shit.

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Android v. iPhone : The Actual Showdown!!!

There's had been so much controversy and arguing on the interwebs (and why should it be any different, after all isn't this why we have the web in the first place?)

Needless to say the level of attack on both iPhone and Android has just about become as arbitrary as the difference between Scott tissue and Charmin; Either way someone is wiping their ass.

So the general consensus is that Android is better for the following reasons:

-Internet browsing is supposedly faster 

-The abundance of free applications

-Now 4G options for retards who don't know what technology is, (honestly if you're not watching videos all the time cut the shit with 4G)

-Larger screens for better viewing, typing and overall screen response.(and B-the-W why come up with a 5 inch screen of embarrassing lack in responsiveness, when 3.5 does perfectly well?)

-And of course the most annoying, Flash.

Now, with that being said , let's take a look at the reality, however, before I go into the particulars of this post, here's the history.

I have used every droid since the launch of the original droid back in November of '09 for Verizon. Since, I have purchased and sold droid model after model to be at the cutting edge longing for a responsive long lasting experience. Device after device I have been grossly dissatisfied, yet hopeful for the one release that will overcome all.

Then aired the best press release I've ever been able to see (topped by the amazing interjection by the lovely John Oliver during the press release.) And so it was. Verizon got the iPhone. So I bought it. And it was glorious.

Now back to the reality:

Basically 4G is great if it worked. I love it on my iPad and it is phenomenally fast. However with Android it is the equivalent of speaking to a retard with a stutter.

Now the reason for this rant is I have no access to my iPhone until Friday. Till then I am resorting to my Samsung Charge. As I sit, shit and surf I take a look at the screen as the "4G speed" loads the pages content, (of course I am looking at The Chive as I am an avid Chiver) and I scroll down as I would with my iOS device, which would let me go as far down as the page
Would allow me until finished (usually about 20 seconds in total, not too bad considering the level of content Thechive.com has to offer) however I am working with my Droid device, and every time the status bar advances it jumps me right back to the beginning of the page. This gets very annoying with the so-called most advanced operating system on the planet.

The keyboard gets really jumpy and warrants the use of swype as a main source of input which is great however I hate swype, not so much the actual keyboard interface but the layout. No room for quick emoticons or anything like that.


Isn't this shit supposed to be smart as fuck?

Most people look into android look forward to free applications, and that's fine, what I don't understand is where the shit is this preconceived notion that Apple nickel and dimes for every application available?

Ignorance really is bliss, until your phone freezes due to an incompatible application through the market.

Now for those who don't know, and from what I understand, is at some selfish bastard (calm down I kid) develops a phone app and through out the market application's comments you see threads of different devices the application is not compatible with, and this is due to the original developer only creating the application to work with their own phone and through countless and tedious updates it slowly becomes compatible with everyone else on the roster.

Android seems best when it comes to simple tasks, downloading mp3 files and playing Angry Birds. Seems that everything "exclusive" to Android has it's own glitches that make me want to punch a baby in their chocolate covered mouth. Buddies now, fancy widget, favorite this and quick that. Screens freeze and keyboard become shit. Not to mention the other dick load of problems I've given up even trying to find out the slightest idea.

I've never had any issues with downloading websites, the applications work *GASP*
and the battery life or performance is not affected by the multitasking capabilities.

"oh but the Droid has removable and expandable memory!"

Yeah maybe if you were not such a cheap ass fuck nugget you would splurge the extra $100 and get the 32GB iPhone, learn how to use a computer and manage your fucking content like an adult. Secondly try using whatever ridiculous amount of memory that your phone comes with and once it burns out your shit out of luck with saving those pictures from he beach house where things got awkward with your second cousin.

Memory cards fail, screen black out, battery life goes to shit, and it seems that everything Droid has on Apple is it's downfall.


So before you talk all the shit you do about hating Apple because your inbred psyche is too stunted to come up with such an amazing concept yourself I recommend you pick one up and try it for yourself.

Don't get caught in the hype or Kayne West will skull fuck you in your sleep.

Related articles

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Ink The New Pink

Image via WikipediaIn the past years tattoo art has come from a cultural chapter in the growing of people in tribes to the rebellious youth in motorcycle gangs to the idealistic tramp in the bar that is begging for an excuse to say "yeah you know exactly where to blow"

Tantalizing isn't it/

In any case the tattoo community has blossomed into an adaptable medium in our now colorful world. Every day some 30-something year old mother drives her skimpily dressed daughter to get matching dolphins because they wish they could live so freely. (Joke) Others go for their first piece of of glorious art that will evolve overnight like the black ooze symbiote that once overtook Peter Parker as he became the Black Spider. I can't possibly be the only one who still gets hard after the very thought can I?

Back to my point;

The art means something to everyone else. Whether its getting a tribal arm band ironically, getting your first-borns' feet print or creating a sleeve for those loved and lost, it is carried with them through out there lives. It helps us cope or keep positive, always comforting or motivating to see the outrageous reaches of our personality and mental imagery splashed together brought to you in part by steel ink and electromagnetism.

I've seen, as the tattoo community reaches near Jersey Shore annoyance with shows like New York Ink, how each story is told. It is probably the most I take away from these programs, as if someone would not tell a friend had they just hired a band of hooligans that their shop might as well be shut down before they open because someone will come up drunk or god forbid put an alpha-female and incredible gay male together to clean up shop.... What a quest for ratings, but I digress.


The point is that the best thing, if not the only, to take away from these shows are the people there. Aside from misconduct and extreme lack of professionalism on camera, there are beautiful stories being shared. These tattoos become less asinine once the camera pans out on a master piece that truly tells a story of loss, misfortune, or just begging for courage.


After an epiphany had during my trip home I realized that I was sick of the shit I had been doing in life. I remember back in high school when my skin was yearning for the steady perforation of a 30 mag needle, I had spent all my time designing and talking about opening up a shop.


I look forward ten years and have accomplished nothing of the sort. So came to me my next step. I decided that the days at my current shit hole occupation were numbered and I needed to do something better, bigger, something I actually gave a shit about.


In comes Tattoos. I am going to finally live my dream and help everyone I can to achieve closure in life or just tell their story. Who knows... I could be the next big thing to come up.




Wish me luck.

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When turtles grow old...

Image by Stuck in Customs via FlickrWhat is the recipe for finding one's self? Is it experience, drive and ambition? Or is it some trivial means to discover an identity worth claiming?

It may be the music we listen to sparingly that takes us back to a driveway, street sign or neighborhood. Something that you remember screaming at the top of your lungs all the while thinking this may be the best night you've ever had. Maybe it can even stretch as far as the love we've made and the times we've fucked like there's no tomorrow.

Somewhere lost in the selfishness that envelops us we tend to think of the material possessions we've had once acquired and now take for granted just like everyone else.

Don't worry, I wont be revisiting those old rants and I certainly wont be taking the Tyler Durden route. I think about the phone's and computers I've had and how once these electronics made me happier than shit to be able to be a "functioning member" of society and being able to do oh so much, now they sit dusted and unused in some drawer. All those can't-wait-to-have-it items become neglected as they are replaced by shinier and lighter items.

Over time this behavior becomes part of our identity where we no longer notice these things. We see it every day when some million dollar Viagra patron ends up trading an old, gray soul-mate for a bouncy new play-mate.

Where does it end. When can we control it?

Better yet when is it possible to never have to worry about it again? The chain reaction of life lives constant every day. We make repeat mistakes and dial old numbers. Sending text messages that promise what seems like forever yet swear of a few hours. Highs and lows, the adrenaline becomes another addiction in hopes of finding something more.

When do we move on?

Is it running away if there's nothing left to do, nothing left or achieve or fix?

What do we do to fix things?

What do we do when we don't have the option?

It seem that no matter what the questions is someone always comes out on top despite popular belief. Complacency settles and we get stuck.

This trial and error sequence we call life may be one of those unsolvable math equations they talked about in Good Will Hunting. Even in that movie there is no real idea to how that story ends.

So where do we go? How can we keep moving forward? The best I can even come close to fathoming is that Hope, or as what some may call God, is what keep those winds at our proverbial sails. Take the lessons at hand and slowly drift from insanity of repeat offenses.



In any case, I'll keep running into walls until they give out.

Mental Vacationing

So a week has come and gone as the fastest in my life; funny how this exclusively happens on vacations. However, I did manage to get a lot done. I saw the people that I wanted to for the most part, there are a few souls I didn’t get to see and I just hope I can see them the next time around. I’m actually shooting for an October return to have an autumn experience for once. As much as I love San Diego’s beautiful weather there are a few natural occurrences that I have built a bit of fondness for.

This week was a big one for me. I got to see my best friends, my baby sister graduate, my cousin who I haven’t seen in forever, I even made peace with my mother after years of angst and confusion I just let it go. Who knows how much longer she has with us or myself for that matter so I decided that I would make my time count.

I also learned a few lessons in life and love. I finally got closure to a relationship that had haunted me for years and am confident that my life will be much easier to enjoy.

After all some doors need to be closed so others can be opened, right? I know it sounds corny as shit but I hated being one of those people I couldn’t stand listening to about their lover’s quarrels not giving the least bit of shit but now I can put that to rest.

As always it is never enough time spent with those you care about and for that reason alone we should all take a second to reflect on the way we live our lives. Some may be in that section of their lives where it is nothing but partying and drinking all night long and that may be working out for you. Others may have the fortune of being able to have their play as hard as their work and reach equilibrium, and THAT’S awesome. For other’s sorta living on the cusp, it may be time to re-evaluate.

Call that person you haven’t spoken to in a while, or don’t. The decision is that easy. However the real work, which nobody likes to do and I have certainly procrastinated on my end, is coping with the decisions made. Some people choose not to speak to that certain someone and continue to let it eat away at who they are. Avoiding isn’t dealing. In fact it’s borderline destructive behavior. I realized how much time I have wasted being angry at shit that was beyond my control, or trying to fix things that were beyond repair.

Sometimes the broken needs to be fixed by another. When things end they do so for a reason. That cliché that tells us to let shit be and if it comes back yada yada. There’s much more truth there than I had previously given credit for and now I see why.

Now I’m sure that most people you know will be fine with living that revolving door of a life that will just constantly play back again with the same outcome over and over, and they will continue to ask why and beg for advice they will never take. But you have an opportunity to be that spark to the eventual lighting in the right direction.

Over all I had a blast in Boston, I really don’t want to leave but I have these damn responsibilities that need tending to. I’ll be back soon, maybe one day for good, maybe just for another visit. Either way I hope to learn something new.

Good Night

Our own worst enemy

Taking a look at the endings and beginning of life's most taxing and daunting tasks it is hard to find the common ground on which we would recuperate. Where to go after a relationship when friends are lost, when moving out of state, it's the high school effect all over again.

You don't know where to go or how to insert yourself to any situation. Our strives for affiliation are our own downfall. What active role will you be playing if any?

From seeing a pretty face in the distance and the time it takes to re-configure the mindset and move forward. Some pele lock up based on social insecurity. That hermit life style is counter productive as it is comfortable.

So what od you say to that group, that girl or boy? How do you conduct yourself? The problem is not the inadequate feeling that comes with being the new guy, it's our obsessive approach that we succumb to. We constantly question our own worth and approach and try to dissect our different vantage points on how to adapt instead of just adapting.

We ask for the advice that we will just as soon dismiss, mostly because everyone loves the sound of their own voice and feed off of the attention given by the outside party. I y this because there really isn't any other reason why one human being would waste another's time in such a way. I call it the high school girl approach.

It isn't easy. But much of the difficulty comes from our second guessing.

Sometimes you have to just go for it. But don't "try", that will ultimately be your downfall. Think about the friends you have already, are you well liked? Nerves will always get the best of us.

Stop being such a puss.

Someting in a smile... some assembly required..

Image via WikipediaVisually speaking the female "set-up" is so much better than that of any male. Maybe that's why I'm not gay.

In any case I think about the daily interactions that I deal with.  In SoCal it is easy to find a woman with an amazing backside-although you'd be hard pressed to find this in some Mexican women, but I digress.

With the explosion in plastic surgery and other aesthetic enhancements big tits are amassing like nobodies business, and as much shit I get from my friends I'm just not big on tits. Plainly put. I'd do just fine with a solid B-cup and a great tush. Tho some do look amazing with the larger set, I should be so lucky.

Other aspects that drive my attention are legs and this has been played to death, also not the point to this post.

A smile delivers much more than any other body part can bring to the table. A great smile can promise so much if on the right face. I know that is a really odd statement but it's true when you think about it. A smile is always the first thing to catch my attention. Even better if they got the nose and eyes to further accent this phenomenon.

At the end of the day the smile is all that matters. Think about, for a second, all the shit that women cake on their faces. By the time you wake up in the morning next to that pseudo-playmate that you picked up at the bar or night club the night before she now has an awful pasty-faced ghoulish creature that has no eyebrows and smells like a tanning salon.

The bottom line is that there is no substitute for a beautiful set of teeth and sensual lips. This goes beyond any sexual desire more so it is just a pretty face. One to be admired with no agenda. A simple glance in the direction of such a sight can relieve all your stresses.

If you know anyone with these features and they make you feel the way I have illustrated, is it too much to go over and engage? The smile nowadays has dropped in value faster than the American dollar. Between reality shows and stupid Real World-esque shows only leave the mindset that those busty bimbos with future liver problems are what is to be desired and acquired accordingly.


I call Bullshit!!!

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Everything is just hunky-dory

Whatever the hell that means. Time stands still sometimes in the retail environment, I'm convinced of this. You find yourself trying to occupy yourself with little activities that bear no importance.

You know work is bad when you go to the bathroom and sit on the toilet for a half an hour and you don't even need to shit.

Instead you play time wasting games, browse the web for photo-blogs, check your email 40 times without anything new coming in. Some will even go so far as to pick up smoking just to get a feeling of accomplishment.

We all have our poisons, vices, and guilty pleasures. Thankfully I haven't plummeted tot the point of masturbation in the restroom. But the progression of the day almost begs for a David Carradine.

That's how daddy likes to get down..(Not Really.)

The faces become blurred, I don't even ask for names anymore.

It slows down to a point where I'm just excited to speak to another human, regardless of the buying condition.

Everyone seems to work in the computer field yet have no fucking clue how the hell to program a contact in their flip phones. Old folks come in looking for smartphones that their grand-kids have and act like you just handed them the Holy Grail when you put some touch screen doohickey or Blueberry in their palm to "give them ownership" of their new product.

At least that's what they teach us in training when in reality we are just owning the customer with their painful hours of questions while everyone else in the place is making money.

So much for the up-sell.

Then you have the asshole that walks in at the most dead point in the day who laughs and exclaims

"Oh man I got the whole store to answer my questions!!!"

That's enough asshole don't waste my time with your idiocy just buy your son who acts like your daughter an expensive phone that wont see life past three months.

The monotony takes its toll but it also finds a way to pay the bills..

Till I find something better everything is just Hunky-dory.

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The Passing Lane Theory.

When driving, you automatically choose the lane with the fewest cars so that you can speed by and get to work, home, or even a hookers house. I don't know I'm not judging. 

In any case reading online you can find different theories of human behavior that lead into speeding up passing and, once pat the mass of vehicles waiting to get off their respective exits, going back at the original pace in front of the traffic. It also mentions that with no real gain other than a mental sense of accomplishment, someone will do the same to you. 

We are all just trying to get by. 

However my passing lane theory deals less with the physical road on which we drive and more so the path we take in life. 

I'm guilty just as most every one else for wishing days away and hoping that the weekend comes fast and the work week witless away with the desire to finish. This holds true for days off or maybe even an event that we are counting down to. 

The bottom line is that we spend most of our days wishing them away due to the daily "hassles" of work, school, whatever ails you in the current state. Tis sort of wishful thinking can really be harmful if not kept in check. By that I mean looking at the opportunities at hand. I get being at work sucks. If given the chance I would much rather write all day and make a living even if under meager conditions, at the very least I'd be happy with what I'm doing every night. 

I see Facebook status update that beg for the weekend to come; before you know it we are 30-something and lacking any real substance to life. We just want the day, and all subsequent days till the desired calendar day, without so much as a thought to what we are giving up. 

I know that this isn't true across the board but to see if it applies to you, think about how many times we've justified putting life by based on our moods. Rather than taking on an additional task that may enrich their daily experiences. For some it comes in the form of working out or joining some fitness program, others find school as an activity but again this isn't the point here. 

The point is to find something that inspires creativity. One beautiful blonde once told me that the people we should include in our lives should enhance or simply put: make us better. I was almost a shocking wake up call to life. I took an inventory of those I was previously involved with and realized that most of the stress came from those I didn't even really care too much about. I know this may sound a bit heartless but looking closely you may see those that are in your life almost as auxiliary components in life without the benefits of support. 

You know that person that only calls you to see what's going on, and yet when you need something you'd be better off bottling smoke? That may be a kinship worth revising or scrapping all together. If you're anything life me you might have a hard time taking in this information, and you'll probably procrastinate until the next episode where you find yourself secretly playing tug of war with a brick wall with the promise that someone else has "got your back".

Unfortunately the truth is far less attractive. But soon you'll notice the difference. This was made most apparent to me when I moved out west. Ever have that thought about who would come to your funeral today if you died yesterday? Finding the answer was much easier moving than dying. 

At first I thought it was a bit of a depressing thought but soon found without too much surprise those I had in my life that would eventually miss me just as much as I would miss them. It's good to have close loved ones. 

I had spent so much time in the passing lane that it was time to do something radical. Im not saying that everyone should just pick up and move. Family and friends will be a solid anchor to hold us down, and maybe that is what we need to re-evaluate. Find some purpose you never knew you had before. Luckily I found a muse to subconscious voice the decision process in my head to help me try out different things and spice things up.

So get up and do something, chances are its better than whatever you're about to settle for. 

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Sun God is My Homie!

It came to me one morning that I didn't want to do anything at all. The day was to be mine and mine alone. I quickly found this to be boring so I texted a fellow blogger and good friend of mine to see what was the current happening. I remember him saying something about some Sun God festival. I asked him if he cold get an extra ticket or whatever was necessary to enter said event. He told me that he had a plan and to meet him at his place. I packed up a few necessities and all substances that may be appropriate to honor Ra, or Annu if you're of the Egyptian persuasion, and I was on my way.

This meeting did not come with its hiccups, during and planning process, but I'll get into that later. As hastily as I had driven over we had paced up from his place. Apparently he had an in at the festival. I figured it was a coordinator.  I later found her to just be another patron to the event.

We sped off in a crazy race against time. Literally. It was nuts, and if I had to go I would have shat myself. The plan was this: I was going to get dropped off on campus so that he could go and meet up with the contact. He actually gives me his phone and shows me an image with the anticipation that I may run into her before he.

"Remember her face, go up to her and tell her you are friends with me. Stay close to her, anchor yourself."

I flicked through Facebook photos that had nothing to do with a clear shot of her face. I kept thinking this is some CIA trained spec ops shit. I knew I had abandoned all hope; So far. We arrive and part ways at the shuttle bus stop. His tires screech in his departure.

I could see the inebriated faces awaiting their shuttle to cart them off to rest and recovery. I try to find a place to settle where I would be the least intrusive. I try and make small talk with the college attendees only to receive awkward glances and smiles. Foreign students are so socially awkward.

A few more stumble past by and bump into me. I'm done with this crowd. I find an empty bench, and I sit and wait. I'm coming down from my buzz from earlier. I'm tapping my feet feverishly waiting for the coming fleet of shuttles to empty their contents with the hopes of recognizing this mystery escort. After several buses and no sign of my friend of the escort I decided to abandon my post.

I got up and surveyed the area. I saw a path of grass in the direction of the festival and figured it was time to begin my journey with the Sun God. I lay with my hoodie over my head sparing me the discomfort of the dry grass' pickle against the back of my neck. I had my aviators on. They were a new pair and were very dark. I could barely make anything out of the brightest of conditions. The sun poured over me evenly and equally tranquilizing. I took out my phone to check if I had missed my buddy’s call. There was nothing, bus after bus. At least at this point I was comfortable and lucky enough there was enough eye candy out and about. It almost didn't matter that they could barely understand me.

As I lay in the grass I just wondered about the progression the day might have. I liked the idea of being invisible. Keeping my hood up and glasses on even throughout the night. As I thought more about this, I felt a vibration in my pocket. Someone was calling me. I picked up and it was my buddy Moose. He began frantically,

"Where are you I need you to walk directly adjacent to the shuttle stop.."

I quickly looked around and found his loud green shirt; I hung up on him as I started in his direction along the concrete.

He introduced me to the escort and company. I don't remember the names. It was a guy and girl, seemed to be involved somehow, and yet looked casual.

We walk. We gather a crowd and pick up food anticipated the long haul. I am introduced to more people who's name I don't remember especially this one middle eastern girl that was certainly all about me but Moose had ruined that for me. I will eventually forgive him (It's all good Bud).

The to somehow manage the wrist bands so that they were easily removed, they had three metal prongs that needed to be bent to allow movement-this is done with my puppy's old I.D. tag and a hand cuff key that I had on my key chain, and passed on to allow us to enter; very simple process, very difficult delivery. It was definitely one of those situations that it sounded harder than it was but pitching the idea to a mass of drunken college students eager to get laid was a hard sell. The girl became irate because she couldn't comprehend Moose's and as an ace tried telling him that once she was in she'd send some help. Lyin' Bitches.

We found ourselves on the roof of the office sections to get a buzz going and formulate a new plan he remembers that we ran into a buddy of his earlier and he gave him a ring.

While waiting for the reply we had gotten pretty wasted, at this point I'm convinced that if for no reason but utter defeat, in a relatively short amount of time. It was almost a complete loss because we were to also sneak in a few other friends later on and if it was this difficult to get us in it may have been impossible to get them. Then the phone went off.

His buddies had gotten back to him and let hum know that they were just laying low till the last act of the show. And with this we had our in. We met up with them at one of the campus's mess halls and laid out our plan. Thankfully these guys were as bright as we were and obliged immediately.

On the way to the entrance we ran into a few cute college girls who actually approached us with an offer to sell a wristband. This bought us so much more time because the other party had shown up and we had the opportunity to make this one quick shot.

Giggity.

I was among the first group to go in. Moose would do the running since he knew the campus the best. That is a completely different blog altogether (I hope ). It was almost like after hours of sidetracking and borderline failure we had everything go right for us. I'm walking through the checkpoints showing my wristband when the thought of how asinine it was to have a limit on the amount of attendees the concert is to have. I walk onto the field. I can see tents set up in the distance for food water, porta-potties even these crazy stall like urinal setups. The field is broken up by two stages: one is playing crazy techno and dubstep music; the other has the evenings talent. Both sections were roaring with energy as the drink kids sprinkled in between. It was almost like walking between two realms of music separated by sound waves and bass lines as Jimmy Eat World and some D.J. in a new era fitted cap collide in the infrastructure. 

It was so surreal. Tossed in the mix are flashbacks to some ice coffee drink, me laying down in the dirt, me again-this time dancing in a large crowd with my glasses on reflecting the laser show in the air as it mixed with the fog and steam, a lap dance, and losing my friends. But in the end it was all worth it.

More so the night taught me an interesting lesson. Sometimes when we allow others to lead on an expedition, you'll find yourself embarking on a journey you'd never otherwise see. The catfish in our lives make it more interesting.

Create your next adventure

Good luck

Goodnight.

Elementary mentality

Dear Lips of something past,

As these cliche words make phrases

I'm racing the stop watch

I swear the next time we meet time will stop,

All the while I'm re-inventing my childhood

Bringing Me back

Step one

Step two

This heart beat races beating the pace car on this drive home

You're riding on my arm And so they say.....

The left hand vessels lead to the heart

I beg to differ

It seems for the next 15 minutes My heart is being held by my right

Step three.....

You're poker face is giving you away as you fondly look over your shoulder

Step Four

My expression is full of suggestion

Don't worry baby girl this sharp turn has nothing on your sharp tongue

But I'll keep you safe,

The honks and horns drowned out by your smile

And In this light I adore you

I'm an 8 year old Man, without a path, without a plan

It say this tanks half full but I'm running on fumes and dreams

Step Five.....

 A long kiss goodnight that'll keep me grinnin' til the sunrise

Keep me smitten over your Ed Hardy's and how you look so cute in skinny Jeans

Thinkin about how my hearts hanging by a thread through our window of opportunity

Step six

I see you walkin away..

Walk around the bed for one more fix of this night cap kiss

I think my smile sold me out

But It's okay

I've got deep pockets...





Feelin Like a little boy


-Jack

Social Networking?

Cover of Anger Management (Widescreen Edition)I remember the day I first got into the social networking craze. I was in high school and one of my friends at the time had asked if I had a myspace.

"What the shit is a Myspace?" I asked, and at that point I felt a little older. Luckily for me I am quick to adapt. This is something I hope to continue so that I never feel out of date; a friend of mine used to refer to these sites as The Myspace and The Facebook, but that's a different story.

So I'm sitting there, watching her cats stalk the area. It had only been my second or third time at her place so I was still unfamiliar territory. I sat there in my Standford Hoodie passively listening to my iPod when she handed me one of her cats. Of course she had handed me the fattest fucking cat I've ever seen. This thing weighed like forty cats, it was unreal. Anyhow, the cat sat tamely on my lap as I began petting him. He purred playfully under my hand and he had that comical look of content on his face as his whiskers flew back and his nails dug into my jeans.

She takes a photo of me with her digital camera. This was before everyone had a fucking darkroom on their phones. After a few minutes at her computer she says, "Viola!"

And there it was, my digital connection to the entire world. I sat trying to figure out what the hell to put on my "about you" section, and for some reason, even now, when that section pops up I have no idea what to write. Nothing ever comes out sounding right. It has gotten to the point where people just say "Just ask" and that shit is boring as all hell.

But is any of this information relevant or true in any way? I mean really, girls talk about how they're bad bitches and drama free, bros and tools talk about how they love to party. I am almost reminded of that scene in Anger Management where Jack Nicholson's character asks Adam Sandler who he is, not what he does. It is kind of frustrating.

So what is the right information to put down? Who really gives a shit about anything that we really write? It's all so arbitrary and usually not true at all. I"ll go ahead and say most of them aren't true, I think that's fair.

I think we write the things we WANT to be true about ourselves. Most people write the basic "truths" right: Drama Free, love to live life, meet new people?

Loosely translated: My life is so engulfed in drama that I don't even notice it anymore, I drink myself retarded and black out, I only want to meet potential fuck buddies. I think that covers it pretty much.

So where am I going with this? Basically the Internet version of us is almost shittier than the real version. At the very least personality is something that is very hard to counterfeit. At first I thought that may be a bit of a reach for a statement, but its true. Someone that knows how to have a good time and is genuinely a great person to be around will emit such a vibe right away. I have had the privilege of meeting these people first hand and consider them my best friends.

But in the process of meeting new people, getting my blog out there for others to hopefully enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing it, and just spark good conversation, it has proven to be a prospect long lost in HTML programming. I find this very unfair. But is the blame on our end as users, or is it that childhood mindset of wearing masks making us invisible to the world?

A good example of this is just the other day I found a girl on Facebook, I wasn't looking for anything romantic or potentially physical, just a fellow user that had all the same interests as I and figured I'd add her. This little scenario usually plays out in two different variations: I get no response and possibly no acceptance on the friend add, or she accepts and we either talk or not.

Some girls still have the Myspace mentality of hoarding friends.

This scenario, however, did not end in either. She actually wrote me and asked if she knew me. I responded saying that I didn't, but we had almost everything in common and thought it would be cool to get to know each other, to which she responded, "don't fucking talk to me I don't know you, don't waste my time". Now I sat back and reflected on the situation, she wasn't underage, she had photos of her in a sorority tee, she had a bunch of photos with her at bars and even had a photo album that said "My 22nd". I thought about what to do. I should have probably just ignored it and gone about my business.

Have you met me?

This actually got under my skin. I tried ignoring it for a day and that's where my limit was reached. I wrote her back asking what her problem was. I was as textbook friendly as I could, although brimming with sarcasm. I asked her if she knew about meeting new people and what that entailed. I understood the general awareness that women put forth whenever a guy randomly "friends" somebody, usually that consists of some douche writing a message full of filth and sexual requests; I save that for face to face encounters.

Joking of course.

I went on to say that she should take the false information on her profile off and write only the truth, and if she was that drama free she wouldn't waste her time writing back to me in such a hostile format.

And that was really it. I didn't go to far, I didn't to scare her obviously that wasn't my intention.

My point is this: if you're a whore and only concern, and associate yourself with those who approach you with a six pack and a promise to shove their manhood down your throat till your mascara runs down your face so be it. I wont judge. Do not pretend to be something you aren't only to prove that you are a complete shitbag freak that shouldn't be allowed in any social situation.

I can go on for days about the ridiculous contradictions of the digital world. With as much potential that these social networks have, there are users that are making this a counterproductive experience.

I can't wait for the next massive social failure.

Goodnight!

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Revisiting the past only makes us more hopeful for the future.

A window shade glows a golden hue as it illuminates a kitchen breakfast table.
The hidden sunrise gently warms and intensifies the scent of Arabica beans
percolating.

Drip drip. Drip drip.

Sleepy eyes bat at my smile. Walking towards her ready to lovingly hold. I'm not
just a man. I'm so much more. Kisses and hugs to go around. She puts her arm
around me as we lay lazily on this Sunday thinking one day this will someday be
my life.

Our romantic combination of nicotine and caffeine brings us closer at the lips.

Your eyes being my light at the end of my tunnel I crawl closer and closer.
Until reality sets in.

I open my eyes to discover an empty seat where she used to be.

Lying up in the corner, my bed much colder than I remember. So ill drift off
into my slumber. Sleep quietly till she returns.

Only she'll never be back. She'll never be mine. And with this volatile mix of
prescription cocktail......

I'll never wake up

Where the hell has dating gone?

I remember the times when you saw a cute girl at the bar and you asked the bar keep to deliver whatever fruity drink whatshername was drinking and if she was interested she'd come over and say thank you.

Now every woman reads some random psychologist's recommendations about how to turn on your guy, spice up the relationship, or crazy shit to do in bed.

The most ridiculous is the sex talk. Every month like clock work, some lady uses big words to deliver a tantalizing bedroom experience to enhance the love life that is falling apart as the reader takes notes.

Are we really so oblivious that we need someone else to tell us what to do, who to do, what to look for, what someone's choice of footwear means in their bank account, so on and so forth.

Maybe try not being such a bitch. Leave the make up behind because honestly honey that $300 bag of MAC or Sephora make up you got wont hide the fact that every morning you wake up a monster.

Again, EVERY SINGLE WOMAN has their own sense of self beauty and it seems more that these editors should focus less on what crazy shit to do with your tongue on some dudes nipples and more on how much less crap to cake on your face.

Waking up to some chick who had eyebrows and now doesn't is no way to spend a Sunday.

Tisk, tisk.

I'm sure that somewhere along the way we will go back to what mattered. At least that's the hope. Dating raccoons isn't my scene. But it continues to be the bane of the dating scene. Prepackaged disappointment waiting to happen.

Epic stand-off between Canine and Feline.

Color Coded Notsalgia: Tonight We Go Red Line

I remember the almost therapeutic effect riding the subway throughout the city of Boston had on me. Since I can remember I had been taking bus to train and vice-versa exploring the reaches of the city.  Even in the pursuit of musical liberation I would venture out farther than I had ever comfortably gone before.

But it was all in the spirit of adventure.

Looking back I could have very well ended up in some nut-case's fuck dungeon. But I was still young and somewhat pure.

Moving On...


I spent a majority of the my last year in Boston traveling on the red line. I could have driven and cut my travel time by 60% but I really couldn't see past a $300 a month parking pass against a $60 unlimited travel pass from the good ol' MBTA, not to mention savings on fuel and the ability to get plastered each night without so much as a thought about how I was gonna get home. (Chelsea was a mere 1.8 square miles, even the most inebriated crackhead could stumble his way through the city in less than 30 minutes.

Harvard square was where I worked and it took a good amount of time to get there. I began developing hobbies that I hadn't really had the time to indulge. Reading an writing became a daily thing. My iPod gave me a soundtrack to enjoy each day; going with a different band or genre each day.

This made the people watching all the better, and Folks if you enjoy people watching as much as I do the MBTA is the transportation service for you. Take the fella above, I almost felt that actually approaching him would diminish the amazing stories that were now flooding my brain. Whatever the reason he had for wearing such an amazing hat I have no explanation, but I had fun making them up.

This was almost a daily occurrence. Between homeless people, train dancers, and ravers to start it never really gets to be too dull on the subway.

It's all a part of the city's undeniable charm.