If You Belonged Here

Chance and other evil doers...BTQ

 If this post makes no sense, is boring, or just ends in the middle of a sentence I apologize.  I am tired, new job, 15 hour days tired.  New job, long days, no sex since bush...tired.  I might be the only guy in America that had one of the first Obama tee-shirts and didn't get laid the night of the election.  Lest you think this is going to be another long post on love, love lost, first love, first kiss, or loving the first bj you would be wrong.  I am pretty fucking crabby today and bookies wonderful post on billy joel lyrics and being single made me want to cry.  It isn't too often I want to cry.  But usually every few years it just feels like I could use a good cry.   If you think this is going to be a post about how great I am because I am in touch with my feelings and can show emotion, you would be wrong.  I am great and I can cry for you if you want me to, but that isn't what I am writing about.

I could write how I am in dire need of love.  Not just bumping uglies, temporary, you-said-your-name-was-what, kind of love.  But love you feel in the membrane walls of each and every cell in your body.  I could write about how I am waiting to be hit by lightning.  How nothing short of 'I would jump off a bridge for you' rapture is going to get my attention.  But I am too crabby to give a shit about writing something so stirring and thought-provoking. 

This started today when I was looking through someone's wedding album.  She was beautiful, with the alabaster skin, and hazel eyes like mine.  I honestly had a thought of how hot our kids would have been if she hadn't gone and married some boner, in a cheap Men's Wear-house tux.  The next feeling I had was pure, evil, envious hate.  Now I don't know them from anyone.  It is just a wedding book left out in the boardroom for clients to look at.  But I was building up quite a dislike for Mr. and Mrs. Jacobson.  They looked really happy in the photos, like they really were in love, and I just wanted to write her a letter telling her I saw him getting a bj from the cheeky maid of honor in the men's locker room that day.  I didn't even work there then but when I am really crabby sometimes my mind does evil doer things.  The lesson for me is when I am crabby, not to look at pictures of happy people.  Makes evil chance beat up good chance.

I told you there was no point in this post didn't I?  So I will come to my question part.  I am really ashamed of myself for feeling that envious and petty.  Even if it was for just a few moments.  I feel like I have to write her an apology letter for even thinking the things I was...well thinking. 

Dear Mrs. Jacobson.  I am sorry I thought about writing you a letter telling you how Mr. Jacobson was getting a pre-wedding bj from your cheeky bridesmaid.  As far as I know he didn't...but I wasn't there.  Yours in another life, Chance.

BTQ...Has there ever been a time when you thought some pretty evil shit?  Something you would'nt want to say out loud because it was so petty and mean that it makes you look like a schmuck.

Take a chance and tell me...I won't judge you...mostly.

 

Alice Gets Jack

(Polly: Surely you all remember the interview series? Well, this is a remnant of that. Alice interview Ramblin' Jack, and this is what happened:)

Alice: Do you still make pancakes with chocolate chips for Mrs. Poppins?

Jack: Yes, but not just chocolate chips. I take requests. I even do animal shapes.

Alice: Can you do dinosaurs? Specifically the T-Rex?

Jack: You bet! I once did an entire diorama of the Cretaceous–Tertiary extinction event. I made the Chicxulub impact crater out of blueberries.

Alice: Why is it that everyone wants to be a designer?

Jack: Because we're rock stars.

Alice: So you do a lot of drugs in your studio then?

Jack: I've given up the lifestyle and settled down. Now I only have the memories of my mis-spent youth, a few scars,  and a lingering infection.

Alice: How did you get the name Ramblin’ Jack? (try not to ramble on)

Jack: It's sort of an alter-ego kind of thing. The carefree, no responsibilities vagabond. The person I could have been had I turned left at the fork instead of right.

Alice: Are you saying that in real life your a Quiet Quincy?

Jack: The only Quincy I know was from a 70s TV series, and I see no parallels between myself and Jack Klugman, other than our names.

Alice: You didn’t really build that teardrop trailer from scratch did you?

Jack: Yes, I did. It's my own design.

Alice: What did Mrs. Poppins do while you were building that?

Jack: Polly helped some, but mostly just gave me space and listened to me blather on about it. Sometimes talking through a problem helps me think. Polly humors me and pretends to listen. She's the best.

Alice: Why teardrop then? Are you sad? Did building it make you cry?

Jack: That's just what they're called. I didn't name them. And no, I'm not sad, nor did I cry building it. Last time I cried was when Ellie died in Up. Absolutely heart-breaking.

Alice: Mac or PC?

Jack: Mac. I got my first Apple computer in '83 before there was such a thing as a Mac.

Alice: I was born in `83. Just sayin.

Jack: Does your mommy know you're using the internet? Just askin.

Alice: You’re reading Foreskin’s Lament by Shalom Auslander, right? I bet you love it so far?

Jack: The cover is quite fetching.

Alice: I'm begging you. Read it.

Jack: I will. We only have one copy and Polly and I read at different speeds, so it's awkward to read the same book at the same time. I'm actually already a fan of his from his bits on NPR/This American Life. Funny stuff.

Alice: Who does Polly like best? Probably me.

Jack: I think we both already know who's first. I'm second. Secret Lulu's third. You can all fight over the remaining slots. Please video tape it.

Alice: So, you can tell the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek, right?

Jack: I find your lack of faith disturbing.

Alice: I think I have a facebook fan page of the same name....

Alice: Do you want to host the next Mojo Party at your house?

Jack: Fine idea. No boas though. Polly hates cleaning house.

Alice: I think boas are non negotiable. AND even if Polly liked to clean house she'd be too busy the next day getting a late brunch with us so we would probably count on you for the clean up. AND you have a housekeeper so Polly can't be your excuse for no boas. How do you feel about ticker tape parades? (Not because we would have one but just because I'm curious).

Jack: Okay, at least get the non-shedding color-fast variety. And I generally feel that ticker-tape parades are frivolous and a waste of taxpayer money, especially if they occur in my house.

Pandora is Begging the Question. Spin That Track.

You've all been there:  It's 2:46 in the morning and you're stumbling through the front door. Obviously you've knocked back a few and hopefully got home via cab or sober friend.  But, you still think the night is young and the last thing you want to do is sleep.  So you slip into something comfortable and kick off the heels.  Then, ladies and gentlemen, it's time to play every inebriated person's favorite game: Drunk DJ.  So, I'm begging you....

What do you song do you play as your Drunk DJ track?

I guess for me it's Adam Tensta's "My Cool."  

I affectionately refer to it as my "get drunk and dance" song.  You know, that song that just makes you feel invincible and makes your rush out to the dancefloor.  This bro hails Stockholm, Sweden where it makes lots of weather.  Wikipedia tells me he was raised by a single mother who broke ties with his heroin addicted father.  Apparently, this Swede had a rough life and like most young rappers, turned to music to avoid delinquency.  Regardless, I would like to thank Adam Tensta for providing me pleasure while drunk and not in my right state of mind.  Nonetheless, I'd let his music have his way with me while I was sober too.