It's made of turkeys!

Since it happens to be Thanksgiving here in the US, I have noticed several out of the country people reading this blog, thank you. I won't be posting anything other than this, this week.

And if you don't have a creepy uncle for this festive holliday, here is an unsolitated Dick pic.

You're welcome.

Have a good weekend people.

I am a doppelganger

I won't lie, I'm a cheap ass bastard. I've known this for decades, when I was a kid, the only reason I was willing to go get new clothes was because they simply no longer fit or I no longer wanted to sew them back together. Yes I know how to sew, shouldn't everybody? For a point of reference, when I was fifteen years old, I was short, below five feet tall short and my grandma was just slightly taller than me at the time, and she's a tiny, tiny woman, my sister though, I think she's part Amazon, and is two years younger, was nearing six feet tall while I remained at dwarf height (unluckily she has a back issue and just stopped at five feet, eleven inches, or she'd probably be taller than me now, which I would have had to use a saw to cut her down to size) and she did all she could to make sure I knew it. I had to use a step stool to get something on the top shelf of an upper cabinet, when asked if she could get what it was that I wanted down, her reply was, “Yes. Yes, I can.” And then walk away. She's not always a smart ass but she has moments. For whatever reason, the school kept track of our height and weight, and I was the short fat nerdy art kid, five feet tall and two hundred pounds, and because of those numbers the assholes thought picking on me was a great past time. Of course I fought back but some people just don't get the hint after a busted jaw or a blackened eye. At the end of that year we were all measured again. I think it was everybody, I'm not sure about that now that I think about it. That summer, I grew like Alice after eating cake. To six goddamn feet tall. I went from dwarf to orc in one summer. All I remember was pain for the whole damn summer because my skeleton decided that it was tired of the short jokes and thought a foot of height was worth it. It was, because that was the thinnest I had ever been at two hundred pounds. That school year got me an entirely new wardrobe. Also, I wasn't bullied much after that, except by a couple of douche-bags that I think were getting off on me beating the ever living shit out of them.

I got most of those clothes from K-mart or one of the crappy outlet stores that went bankrupt just after buying my clothing. They thought the newly tall was a trend that would never end, but I was the only one. You'd think making a business plan on fast growing children would be a great success. Full set of new clothes, when Nirvana was all the rage then, and I never got a flannel shirt. I didn't follow trends. I am my own man, dammit. I did, however, have the Doc Martin boots, I stole them off one of the guys that tried to beat the shit out of me, but failed. And I wore those things until they fell apart and duck tape would no longer put them back together. Woe to the vanquished, asshole! And to this day, I still have no fashion sense, no style to speak of, because I just want to be comfortable. Who the hell should care what I look like, as long as it's not ratty or covered in holes. Fuck you, fashion police. I dress how I want.

Yeah they're me.

Of course this doesn't mean I won't spend money where it's needed, I wear glasses, because I am pretty much blind without them, and finding a style that fits my face is a daunting task. I got my first pair of glasses in high school, just after that growth spurt in fact, maybe becoming a tall human screwed up my eyes too. This theory is debunked due to the fact that everyone in my family has glasses. Except my sister. First she's taller than me for years, and then she doesn't have fucked up eyesight. This is bullshit, I'm still claiming she was goddamn adopted. Anyway, the glasses I got for the first time were stupid looking, round and metal and made with glass lenses that were heavy as hell. The second pair, I got the Monday after graduating from school, and they were the same stupid style because “I should be more concerned with what I am looking at, and not how I look.” Thanks doc, that was stupid advice, but at least he put in those light weight plastic lenses. I had those until two years ago, because glasses are expensive and I could not afford new ones. Two years ago, something popped in my right eye and I went more blind in it, to the point that I could no longer draw a straight line with out a ruler. Everything skewing off to one side is a pain in the ass when you work with wood that needs to be straight or level. Paying customers want stuff right before they hand over gobs of cash. So, I got my eyes checked and wham, new glasses, but this time in a style that look like they belong on my face.

Black frames normally go to silly hipsters but have you seen the comedian Brian Posehn? He's got a beard, he's funny as hell, and I think I look like a doppelganger with the same style of glasses.

I see it. It's real.

These glasses, which I paid for out of pocket because no self-employed business owner, with no employees, has any health insurance (that hadn't been forced onto us until a certain law was passed a few years ago, and that is the closest to a political post as I will get. Argue among yourselves about that crap). These glasses cost me a whopping $900. That's right, nine hundred American dollars. Why, you ask? Because I went all out for them, they are made of safety plastic and they have stopped a ton of flying pebbles from my lawn mower from going into my eye, with nary a scratch. I have dropped them from a two story roof and not a dent. I've fallen asleep with them on and they didn't get twisted up being on my face. They tint to near pitch black, except for in the car because that just isn't possible I guess, and they have a similar anti-glare like those expensive Gunners all the computer nerds swear by. Also they're Rayband frames because that was the cheapest brand name I could get. Add in taxes and the three year warranty and the visit to the eye doctor that talked me into taking a picture of my retinas for the glaucoma test, without dilating my eyes, sweet!, and the cost was at that $900 mark. Maybe I added in dinner and travel expenses too, whatever. I have no complaints about them either, I went from near blind to crystal clear and all I wanted was to be able to read what the cable box put in the info part of the screen, from my chair at a six foot distance. I can read that bitch from across the room now. And for driving safely too, I guess.

I got very bored, here's a post.

Since I started writing this blog I have had some time to think and ponder about useless crap while at work, taking a shower, just falling asleep, that maybe I could put down here. But instead when I do write something out, I question where to put a comma, or what the hell the difference between a colon and a semicolon is, or when is it right to use a schwa, what the fuck is a schwa for anyway and why do I know what a ~ is even called? And then I try to remember all the English classes through school, most of which I barely passed, because instead of doing the work the teachers wanted, I programmed my TI-800 graphing calculator to play tetris and wasted as much time as I could until I was done with school. I'm saying I was not a good student, but I'm a published poet, short story author and now a blogger, one former teacher was not only astonished about the published writings but I'm sure she was just as amazed I was not in prison, or dead, or something, she did call me an asshole while in school, so the prison thing is completely understandable in her amazement. Or amazeballs. I saw that used somewhere and wanted to get in on the action of it's usage. I know it's not a word, because it should not be no matter what some dumbass says is a word in Scrabble, twerking, bezzy, and ixnay are a fucking made up words, fuck you Scrabble! But I wanted to use amazeballs somewhere, and I'm very sure that was not the correct place to use it, oh well. If that miserable bastard Clippy was still around, he would be bugging the ever-living shit out of me until I fixed the word amazeballs, into something like amazing balls, or amazed ball, or baseballs, because word processors are stupid. I'm also sure Clippy was the first step toward Skynet,, which is why he is no longer used in Word. I bet he was sick of all the swearing and poor grammar and the fact no one ever wanted his help with what they were working on, so he was becoming sentient and vowed to help create murder robots, to send back in time to kill John Connor's mom, after she bangs his best friend from the future to become his dad in the past. That's not a fucked up family reunion at all. “Hey Mom, I want you to meet my best friend, and isn't it strange that I look so much like him? You think he might be a distant cousin or something?” It'd be funny to know that the word Amazeballs is what would have send the sentient computers into a kill-all-humans rage. All those kids in the 90s just typing in random shit into their computers and yelling at an animated paperclip to shut the fuck up and leave them alone was just the beginning of the storm that Sarah Connor warned us about.

Trying to think of things to write about has gotten harder each and every time I sit in the public library to put the virtual pen to paper. I try not to just stare off into space here because there are enough strange people in this building that I don't need to be lumped into their group. I bathe damn it. So instead I just start writing to see what pops out of my brain and onto the computer screen. Most of the time I try to think of something funny or worthwhile that I would like to read but then I get to the point of not really giving a fuck and decide to just put out gibberish like this, just to see if anyone else will notice that I haven't stopped this sentence until now. Of course that just made me smile like an idiot but I don't think anyone paid me any attention. Speaking of weird people, there was one guy just a few minutes ago that was standing at a rack of books just staring at it. He didn't move his head, take a book off the shelf to see if it was something worth reading full out. He just stood there staring at the books. For five minutes. And I sat here staring at him, staring at a shelf of books for five long minutes. I don't know why I did that, but what the hell guy, pick a book or move on. At least fucking move around, if he waited any longer I would have thought he died standing up. Or fell asleep. Holy crap, maybe he noticed out of the corner of his eye that I was watching him and he froze like a deer caught in headlights. Because I was watching. I once read about how nothing is real until we recognize it as being real. Like outside our field of view jack shit exists, until we pay attention to it and then it suddenly exists. Maybe that guy did believe in that and he thought because I was staring at him, staring at some books, he started to question his own existence, because he thought I was questioning him questioning my existence and it broke his brain. Is it wrong that I think it'd be kinda cool to break someone's brain just by staring off into space like that? I think it'd be fucking amazeballs.

I have no real title for this. Titles are hard.

For the better part of two decades now, I have played online, fantasy sports, with my family. We have leagues for baseball and football mostly, because soccer (I refuse to call that thing football, I don't care how many billions of people call it that) is boring as hell. Two hours of kicking a ball back and forth in the middle of a field of green lawn is mind blowningly stupid boring, and then people are okay with a tie? A fucking tie? Win, or win not, there is no tie. Or crying in baseball. Shit, get it together sports world. And then there's hockey. Hockey is nothing more than soccer played on frozen water, but with the occasional beating between two grown men, that are undressing each other just to commit assault, and then that beating never happens because taking off all that gear just wears them out to the point that neither of them can land a blow. But then they bro hug it out, go sit in a corner for a couple minutes and then come back to the game. I don't watch NASCAR for the same reason, boredom, watching people drive a car at two hundred miles per hour would be better if it wasn't always a left turn, and crashes were mandatory. I used to have a NASCAR game on my computer and after ten minutes of “driving” I'd get bored and turn that bad boy around to see how many cars I could demolish in one spectacular wreck. I'm sure a real fan would be annoyed with my concept of getting bored playing that stupid game, but turn on real looking wreckage and car parts just scatter across the road. It was great, and probably why people think I'm a bit on the psychotic side of the sociopath scale, to which I answer, why do you go shooting pixalated images of human beings, huh, Mr. High-and-mighty? At least I was reenacting Blood on the Asphalt from driver's training, not making making a character explode while after running through a hallway that had been deliberately set up with landmines and I just happen to use a rocket launch from a good spot perched above where I could see to launch that rocket at perfect timing because some little twelve year old bastard asshole called me a wanking twat in a southern accent after he owned me in the previous battle to teabag my character. The little shit never saw that attack coming, don't give an adult time to set up elaborate traps, when you can be learning how to use swear words correctly.

Being a nerd, or geek, which ever one deals with number and stats and shit, I can't remember what separates the two anymore, as they both get beat on by people bigger than them, I enjoy fantasy sports because it's much, much like playing a quick game of D&D without the effort of dice rolling. D&D is nothing more than stats that are used to progress a story, fantasy sports are nothing but stats, to use as bragging rights against someone else because you know how to pick an athlete better than them. Horse racing, I view as the same thing, but with even less skill involved, and maybe more broken knuckles at the end of the week. My family is big into sports, and thus we have become part of the fantasy sports crap that has now taken over the sporting world. We don't play for money, just those bragging rights. And we hardly ever break any knuckles, chairs yes, but that has nothing to do with fantasy sports. I didn't really care about football or baseball when I was a kid, I'd sit and watch a game or two with my dad, mostly because someone else was on the computer and the TV was occupied so I couldn't play any of my video games. But when my dad started a fantasy football league, I joined just to keep him from whining about how no one watched sports with him. I joined out of pity. And then I got hooked on it. My dad had been trying for years to get my interest in sports, he bought a few baseball games for me, and Madden football, hoping that I would sucker me into his world. The first season of football I watched, I knew all the stats I needed so I could win. It didn't work, because I was stupid and didn't know enough. My family was not prepared for my training. I went and bought the newest Madden game, and played for days through the franchise mode. In that game I made a player called Fatty McFatass, he was the shortest you could get, under five feet tall, and he weighted well over four hundred pounds, which was the heaviest you could get the player to be. If this guy was real, he would have burned off all those pounds with in a couple games or died on the field when his heart said it had had enough and launched itself from his chest, which would have made him “probable” for in the next half of the game. And he simply existed for my own sadistic amusement. Try not laughing at a short fat man running down a field carrying a football. But, I learned everything I needed out of that game for a good draft, and then who the new rookies were for my next attempted foray into the world of fantasy football. All from a damn video game. That's right, video games taught me something, I laugh at all those parents that said this wasn't possible and video games only rot your brain. I also bolstered this new found knowledge with Wikipedia and all the rules of the game. Pretty soon I was talking about shit that happened in a real game while watching, than the rest of my family knew or understood, and they had been paying attention for years. I kicked the crap out of everyone that was playing in our family league. It was a good times for this nerd.

Baseball was something different though, I have always liked baseball, and dreamed one day I would play professionally. Not Major League, World Series winning, kind of professionally. I kept my dreams more grounded, like playing single A farm club type play in a small Midwestern town where I could end up selling cars during the off season, that maybe got called up to the big league for a game in my entire career, and then after retirement, open a bar and brag to all the customers how I used to play “pro ball,” kind of professional ball player. I was always really good swinging the bat, I've always been stronger than I look, and quicker than what some fat kid should be allowed. But the dream was dashed when I was told that I needed to have been playing as a kid on a team in a league. Sure, whatever, I've heard about those undrafted players that just walked into a camp and then got signed to a team because they had potential, I'm looking at you Wesley Snipes's character, Willy Mays Hayes, from Major League. So fine, most professional players have been in the game since they were eight years old, and have practiced hitting thousands and thousands of baseballs and throwing millions of them to each other of the same amount of time. I'll just go back to my fantasy leagues and video games, looks like I'll be making another Fatty McFatass with the next Madden game.