Hold up, Jack!

This blog post is an homage to a recent habit I picked up. Pretty sure it's an old man habit. I'm only "like 30" and I spend most of my time at home so I'm not sure where I'm picking up old man habits.

Hmm.. That's hardly introspective of me.

Whatever, Jack! There it is.

I have a cat. OK, I don't have a cat but that's neither here nor there. There is a feline-like creature living in my bedroom. His name is Punky. His friends call him Punkalicious. I call him Jack.. or whatever feels right in the moment. It usually goes something like this:

I return home from fighting the power, usually with food. I enter my bedroom and greet him with pets.. Usually the currency of domestic dogs, but Punky will take pets in small quantities. He doesn't automatically notice that I have food. Once I open the bag, he knows.. Initially all he does is look. Even if I'm not looking at him, I can feel the black face and yellow eyes in my direction. When he realizes I'm actually gonna sit there and eat my food and not offer him any, he decides to do the polite thing and come closer so that presenting him with food will come more at ease. He's not a dog, though he exhibits many dog like qualities. He doesn't just sit on the floor hoping to catch a scrap or two. No, he hops right up onto my table and goes for the gold. My first response is a nudge and a "Fall back, Jack!"

So yeah. That's that. Leave a comment, Jack..

R.I.P. Colorado 12

I imagine he did it to be remembered. The time, place, and drama of it speaks volumes to that. But he won't get that much from me. Won't even post his name here. The only people who deserve remembrance are those who lost their lives today. Rest in peace to the victims of this bullshit. Hearts to the families and friends that won't be able to experience those loved ones anymore.

The victims names:

Veronica Moser-Sullivan, 6
Alexander Boik, 18
Micayla Medek, 23
Jessica Ghawi, 24
Alex Teves, 24
Jonathan Blunk, 26
Matt McQuinn, 27
Alex Sullivan, 27
John Larimer, 27
Jesse Childress, 29
Rebecca Ann Wingo, 32
Gordon W. Cowden, 51

Rem The Blogger

I used to do this all the time:

http://www.myspace.com/pimpjoosse/blog
http://pimpjoosse.xanga.com/

Strangers Know Best

Remember when every word you said to one another carried more weight than modern America? Now remember the last time you tried to give him or her good advice? Remember the look that was returned like the advice you gave started with "Yo' momma so whatever"? What the hell happened?

I think every relationship reaches a tipping point when it comes to communication at some point. Communication tends to be inversely proportional to the time spent between two people growing together. For the arithmetic impaired, that means the listening fades as the anniversary count ticks up.

That's all fine and good. Your advice isn't always the best so maybe there's a reason he or she started tossing it like that fatty part on a bad cut of steak. Maybe it's not all meat anymore in your old age. But the kicker comes when the advice you gave somehow gets followed when it is spoken through the voice of someone who is not you.

Him: "The garbage man told me that I should probably quit before these things kill me."

Her: "The intern told me that I could stand to lose a little weight."

Him/Her: "That mo fo was right!"

That's when the look he or she gave you before shows up on your face this time. So why is it that your words have become shit flakes in the wind compared to those of any person that is not you?

I guess that's just one of those mysteries that accompany the swindle the people before me call love. Perhaps I should go back in time and tell those people a thing or two about love.. After an argument with the spouse I imagine would be the most opportune time.

You Better Run

Death. It's that thing that follows us our entire lives. Sometimes it catches up with us before we even learn to walk. Sometimes it catches us when we become too ill to outrun it. Sometimes out of nowhere it slams into us like a Chevy into a raccoon when it picked the wrong time to cross the street. Sometimes we manage to stay ahead of it for more years than we could have hoped and we welcome it on our death bed in old age surrounded by our loved ones. No matter how or when it catches up with us, it is always there behind us inevitably waiting to take us from this life. But this isn't about that.

This is about another element of mortal existence that is constantly on our tail. This other thing is much faster but not nearly as lethal. When it catches us as it constantly does, however, we eventually find a way to get ahead of it again. But just like death, it's always there and can only be avoided for so long.

Boredom. I feel like it's the scariest thing besides death. Once it catches up with you it makes you think too much. When it gets a strong hold on you it makes you do things you wouldn't normally do to become free of it. Sometimes it's all you've got if you didn't see it coming. Sometimes your current responsibility isn't enough to keep you beyond it. So.. Sometimes it makes you write a blog post all about it.

I'm still trying to figure out how to stay ahead of it. When it comes to outrunning boredom, I often feel like a white girl in a slasher flick. I try to keep a book handy. I fill my home with sources of entertainment from games to the internet. I try to keep my eyes on the prize; try to stay motivated in my responsibilities. I often try with great futility. So given the constructive and semi-sweet constructive ways to stay ahead of boredom, it's always easier to choose the latter (that's the second one, right?).

I deactivated my facebook account today. I used to do this from time to time when I felt I wasn't getting what I wanted from facebook. I could go into that, but I'd say it's a blog post for another day (insert eventual link here). Often when I become bored at work, I go to two web sites. The first is ConquerClub.com. This isn't an ad, so you can go there and figure out what it is if you are curious enough. The second is probably first on everyone else's list. I don't do anything when I get there. I check somewhere between zero and one new notifications with great dismay, glance over my messages, check my news feed adding clever replies where applicable, then look at recent things I've posted. It's an hourly ritual that takes it's toll on me the more habitual it becomes. So it's deactivation time.

Now begins filling that void with an unequal and opposable distraction. Probably more blogging about unfinished boredom inspired thoughts. A better use of my time, though not by much. So.. I'll see you next time I trip and fall.

Stay out of Detroit

Tell Me Who's Gonna Hold Me Down

I need love..

Cuz I'm not gettin' enough;

And when I'm down,

Who gon' help gettin' me up?

When I'm gettin' beat up

By my fears and my issues

Who gon' try to understand

And dry my tears wit' a tissue?

Life weighs heavy

And sometimes I gotta be strong,

But every once in a while

I need someone to lean on.

If I lose my way,

Someone to help me come back;

If I lose the beat,

Someone to bring the drums back..

Yeah..

Can you help me bring the sun back

If darkness overwhelms?

Can you help me overcome that?