3 Weeks Till Closing

Well peeps, I am 3 weeks till closing on a new house. I get to flex my manly talent muscles and do flooring, tear out walls, build counter tops, cabinets and the like. I just know my girlfriend is going to have a list of things for me to do at least a mile long, but it is exciting. How sweet is it to have your own backyard? I mean, I can start fires, plant trees, build a spaceship, bury bodies and make a bomb shelter if it pleases me. I'll keep ya'll posted as to my progress, maybe even with some pics.

Coffee and Cream:

"I like my sugar with coffee and cream" - Beastie Boys.

A common mixture of two dissimilar liquids, one cold, one hot, that create a completly different substance. Sitting side by side and on thier own they are both somewhat appealing. Each having qualities and properties desireable to the palate, but when you mix them they bring out the best in each other and become a new thing. A beautiful new thing with unexpected, deliciousness and fragrance. One cooling the other to a temprature that is no longer above the comfortable drinking threshhold, and the other warming it's counterpart, bringing out best that it can be.

Soulmates that just happened to mix on accident one day. Who was the one who brought them together, I doubt anyone knows for sure. All I know is that no morning, afternoon or late evening is complete without them.

Who cares what either substance looks like? Would you care if it was glowing green, or bright orange? What matters most is how it makes you feel, how it tastes! Too many people look with thier eyes and miss an entire world of things that matter most. Eyes, the most decieving organ in the body. I've said my peace.

Cat Saga Continued:

I consider myself to be an attentive cat owner. I pet them, play with them, and feed and water them, as needed. Now you would think this would be enough to keep them happy and satified. You would think that they would appreciate all of the attention and care to the point of being fat lazy happy cats who only meow at you in order to praise you with thanks and contentment. This is not the case. No not even close to the case. Castor, the make cat, the smart one, he meows at me the second my feet hit the ground in the morning. Not just a friendly, happy, meow; more like a death threat. Its the deep Roooowr and staring you straight in the eyes kind of meow that tells me he is abso-fuckin-lutly displeased about something. Being the caretaker I am, I rush out of the bedroom and look at his box (clean), his water dispenser (full and clean), his food dish (half full but available nourishment present). So i dismiss it as perhaps he has bad gas? Or he is not happy with the way my hair was standing up when I first woke up. But he followes me to the kitchen while I try to pour my coffee, follows me into every room of the house throwing himself under my feet. Throwing himself in such a way that he resembles a football player trying to sack the quarterback. It is truly alarming behavior. I am left with the feeling that he is trying to get rid of me in a completly random household accident.

Cops would arrive and find me impaled on a broken cup of coffee and my cat standing on my chest meowing at me like I would be getting up soon to do his bidding. Most cats wont look you in the eye for any length of time, some wont do it at all. Its a respect thing. In nature it is a sign of dominance and ownership. This cat clearly believes he owns me because he WILL NOT look away, ever. He will wait till your eyes are dry and you are slamming the table with your fists in an attempt to take your mind off the fact that your eyes are drying up in their sockets and shriveling up and close to just dropping out.

Another recently discovered peculiar behavior of his is eating as much as he possibly can and vomiting it up in the middle of my hallway or living room, going back eating more and repeating the process as quickly as possible and then complaining to me that his bowl is empty. I know he is not sick, he is a strapping young healthy cat, he is energetic and has had all his shots. he definatly is not sick, but he most certainly is bulemic. Or perhaps he just does it so he can meow more at me, I dont know. Im looking at him right now, no shit, he is eating again.

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You might be wondering what this little guy looks like, so I will provide a picture to help you visualize this. See? Looks like an angel, acts like a devil. He is indeed my cat. more to come.

Your Minds Eye:

I wrote this for my lovely girlfriend many years ago:

Your face to me is a landscape, painted with the hair of angels for brushes, with the tears of gods for paint, and the wings of doves as the canvas. Your beautiful deep and inviting pools, those eyes... sirens to the soul they swallow me whole...

I am so lost in you, your maze of love. Your silken hair, spider wisps in the breeze.
Animated magic, the very action of your smile, calming me creating me anew, a child.

To know you exist is pleasure so intense it hurts. To know you exist away from me now is utter destruction. My goddess, how I love you, you are the heart, you beat the blood that I depend on, that keeps this perfect machine running.

Without you I am not even this thing, I am a psychotic bio cancer. But with you I am like wine, sweet and as flowing from heaven. I promise you my life, it is yours, I am yours... I'm your servant.

A new kind of cola:

Pick a favorite soda beverage, one you have been drinking for years. Or perhaps a snack food or brand of car. Something in your life that is a favorite... I suppose anything will do. Now, how did you arrive at this decision? How did you decide this was your favorite? Perhaps it was the way it tasted on your lips, or the refreshing feeling you got after consuming it, or something simple as it was just what you got used to and now can't imagine anything else. Whatever the case, this is your favorite in all the world and although you have tasted other things, you inevitably return to your favorite. You know it is just right. Sure, other brands come along with flashy labeling, promises of a new and improved flavor, or even prizes in the box! And you try them, for a time. Sure the novelty of something new is always interesting at first. We love variety in our lives. But nothing says comfort, truth, safety and happiness like your good old faithful, never dissapointing favorite. And sure you can make arguments all day long about how you plan on trying something new, or how its time for a change, but it's not what you want. Not at all. Because what are you drinking right now? Thats right, your favorite. And what will you be drinking tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow again? Your favorite. To me, the rest of the known world can crash and burn and blow away as long as I have my favorite. How do I know this is true? Because no matter what I have said or done, I look in my hand and see what I have right here and now. Because if I wanted anything different, I would have it. But I dont have that, or anything else in my world, quite on purpose mind you, except the things I truly want. My favorites. Take a look at your world once in a while and spend a little time wondering if you're really drinking or eating your favorite things. I know I am.

On a side note, I am now very fucking thirsty. I think I will go partake of the wonderful gift of something refreshing, delicious and never dissapointing. You're probably wondering what that is, aren't you? But that is not the point of this post. The point is to help you decide what it is you want, since I already know what it is that I want and have been drinking it all along.

Bad Dog:

Who in the hell broke into my account and wrote that sappy bullshit yesterday? That ain't me! Nawww I'am the guy who smokes more than Dennis Leary and is about 10x more pissed off! Yeah! I know what it was. I had quit smoking as a New Years resolution and it had drained me of my evil powers. The evil powers of perception and smite and angst. So I went out this morning bought a pack of smokes and now it's on. Let me the stage for you, for my most recent dilemma. I have not held a regular job for the past 9 months. I decided that since the girlfriend had a regular job and made enough money for us both, that I would take the time off and do what it is in life that I wanted to do. Write a book. So that is what I have been doing with my time. It has become my job. I cook, clean, do the dishes and laundry and vacuum... Everything around the house, and when I have time I write. You would think a woman would appreciate this kind of role reversal in this day and age, right? heh WRONG.

So there I am, putting the finishing touches on the tedious job of cleaning up after a home cooked meal, which by the way I make sure is ready on the table for when she gets home, and I sit on the couch under a blanket. One of our cats decideds to jump up in my lap and get comfortable and I feel the anger meter in my head dip a couple of degrees in the negative direction. The calming effect is nice. but in through the door busts an angry woman who throws her coat at me (its my job to hang it) and begins yelling at me in a shrill voice. "Must be nice to sit on your fucking ass all day long and do nothing while I bust my ass at work and put up with idiots all day long." Now you would think, knowing me as you do, that this would immediately throw me into a "Hulk Smash" like rage. Where I leap from the couch after having torn my shirt off and ripped my pants in all the appropriate places... (Side track: Why in the hell didn't the Hulks pants come off? Is a Hulk sized penis not part of the whole metamorphosis deal or what? If not, where is the benefit? I don't get it.) But no. I breathe in deeply and smile and say, "How was your day honey?" That is akin to throwing military grade C4 on a nuclear fire and it starts a tyraid of complaining and hate that would make Alanis Morrisette seem happy and well adjusted. "How was my day? How was your fucking day? Why are there so many lights on in the house? Why is the kitchen a mess? What are you doing sitting on the couch? When are you getting a fucking job?" and on and on it goes.

It is at this point where I must make an important decision. Life is full of these tiny little forks in the road. You know them well, you have them, I am sure. One road will lead you to the "higher road" less traveled. The one where you smile and comfort your loved one after a hard days work and eventually they will calm down and all will be well. But in doing so, must swallow your pride, and anger at having being beaten down emotionally like a bad dog. Knowing full well you too busted your ass all day long, picking up after her mess, making sure she comes home to a warm happy home with a nice dinner on the table, and squeezing every last bit of creativity out of your very being trying to write a compelling and interesting book. OR... You can retaliate in kind, with the same amount of energy and anger you just received. Which did I choose, you're now asking yourself?

I got up slowly from the couch, I am sure there was a flicker of "KILL" in my eye when I did. For a moment in time I looked to my right and saw the camera man of life focusing in on the scene, strangely enough on the side of the camera was "Faces of Death". Ever wonder how they get all that neat and horrible accident and mutilation on tape? These guys are paranormal telepaths with fortune telling powers, they always seem to be at the scene of a grizzly accident. I took this as my first warning. On the left, sitting on my couch with my cat in his lap was the Emperor Palpatine from Return of the Jedi, laughing and saying; "Yesss, yessss, I can feel the hate swelling within you, pick up that candlestick holder and strike her down with it, and your journey to the dark side will be complete." Oh Tantalus, dost thou need to hold the grapes so close to my mouth?! Ahh, but you're still wondering what I did...

I took a deep breath and turned to the Emperor and said "I will never join you, I am a jedi like my father before me." Under my breath of course. You see, I was not kidding when I said I saw him sitting there. The longer I go with no human interaction the tighter the rubber band that is my mind gets and someday it's gonna snap. So, like the bad dog I am, I turned off the extra lights in the house, cleaned up the little mess that was left and did my best to calm her. I then spent the rest of the night sitting with her on the couch watching Smallville and rubbing her feet. But before you get all disappointed in me, and feeling as though I might have lost my edge, gone soft, thrown in the towel, keep in mind one thing... I have been checking into prices of Woodchippers.

Until next time.

Nothing Is As It Appears To Be

So this morning I get up after a mere 4 hours sleep, there is no hot water in my building, so I am forced to splash icy cold water on myself. I then have to lather up the soap with icy cold water clinging to me, a nifty cool breeze blowing on me and no promise of anything warm whatsoever in my immediate future. Then comes the unbearable rinse. I make it out to my car and it would not start. It took me literally 15 minutes of wearing my battery down to almost nothing till it finally turned over. Clearly something is terribly wrong with it. Then there was the bus ride in to work... those of you who have been following this average life are well aware of my bus problems... I have some serious ass bus problems. However today was unique in that the bus I was on was clearly made for dwarfs. The seats had absolutly no room for your legs at all and yet the seats in front of you could recline back. You would literally have to have no legs at all to sit there with the seat in front of you leaned all the way back. And yet the woman in front of me attempted to recline fully. Quite simply this was not possible as my knees were already pressed up against the back of her seat, however, this would not deter her from trying with a tenacity rarely seen in a non life threatening situation. She was hurling herself and all of her weight against the back of the seat while looking at me, one hand on the lever that allows her seat to recline and the other on the head rest. Clearly she could see my body recoil and shake with each increasingly forceful attempt she made. The look of utter disbelief combined with the scary feeling one gets right before a bone snaps in ther leg was written on my face as I looked her in the eye during all of this. She did not care. She kept trying. The urge to drop all human rational thinking and embrace the purely animal instinct of killing was overwhelming, but I did what every guy does. I ignored her as best as possible and closed my eyes for some sleep. I arrive at my destination, good old Port Authority NYC. Every morning I get coffee at Au Bon Pain and walk the half a block to work. However this morning at the coffee shop they did not have those lovely littel cardboard sleeves the slide over the cup so that the scalding hot coffee does not remove skin or set you aflame while drinking what is markedly close to molten lead. So I held my cup of coffee as I walked to work, the fingers wrapped around the cup are tingling and no doubt forming blisters. So I get to work only to find out that our website is down and clients who pay us many thousands of dollars are not pleased with us.

Now... you would think that this would be a fucking terrible morning, right? But this is my world, and here baby... Nothing is as it appears to be. I am in a good mood and nothing can touch me. Thanks to quid I have a song stuck in my head... All ya need is love.

A Day In The Life... At Work:

So now it is time for me to tell you about an average day at my work. Mind you this is not everyday, just an average day, a snapshot frozen in time and handed out to you, my lovely readers (hahaha like I have any) so that you may enjoy. Thus far I have taken you through my waking up, showering, and part of my commute. I do plan on finishing my commute for you, however more and more incredible things are happening to me daily while I travel that I have not had the time to put it to words, but rest assured, I shall. Ok.. work.. lets go.

As I arrive at my place of employment, knees and back sore from my iron maiden like surroundings, courtesy of NJTransit. This is a time of gathering ones strength as I stand outside, downstairs and sip blessed and soothing coffee. I am grasping the cup with both hands and holding it close to my face as if it was a life preserver and I was sinking in the sea of things that suck. A cigarette provides a little comfort as I prepare to enter work, but I am still very dissapointed with my cigarettes. I have smoked them for almost 10 years now and they still have not killed me as promised. But I continue to give them their day in court in hopes that they will soon take some fucking initiative and do what they are supposed to do. As I flick the spent butt out into the street and pivot on my heels towards the door I am suddenly greeted with a co-worker.

The innundation of questions I am the recipient of is staggering. Questions that I hate to answer because they are blaringly obvious and require zero thought. People tend to ask questions they already know the answer to, as if looking for confirmation. Yet sometimes they ask them of ME when there is no possible way I should know them. For insatance, this question always makes me grit my teeth. "Ok, is there anything I should know that I dont know?" That one always makes me take pause and consider it, because as a techie, we try to answer everything or at least analyze and respond. But this is my quintessential "divide by zero" question. If I were a robot and not a squishy organic life form, this would short my circuits and destroy my processors.. or at least a total system crash. However I am fortunate enough to not be a robot and this merely aggrivates me to the point of homocide. I would love to answer that question with "Yes, as a matter of fact there is something you should know, that you appearently don't know... You are a fucking idiot. That being said, now you know everything! You can die with a smile and now is a great time!" Followed by a pummeling that would compare to tossing someone into the back of a cement mixer truck with a few hundred bowling balls...

So I have already been aggrivated to the point of unleashing death and I have not even made it to the elevator. I know that a thousand more questions that should never be asked of me are coming and soon I will be expected to answer them all. Funny thing about careers, and you can test this theroy yourself... but ask someone, anyone, what they wanted to be when they "grew up" and probably all of them are going to tell you something completly different than what they are currently doing. I am no exception. Careers happen to you based on situation and opportunity.. but they are seldom what you want. I have to go now, I am being asked to go look at a set of speakers that are not playing on someones computer... I bet my life and all my worldly possessions that they are not plugged in properly and a simple ammount of investigation made by the user could solve this themselfs. However because it is attached to or within 500 miles of a computer, they consider this my territory and can not, and will not touch it. Like its a union job and they would be fired if they attempted to solve something on their own. Marvin the Paranoid Android... I feel you man... I feel you.

A New Idea...

It occured to me this morning while watching people move around that they tend to do so in a very un-hurried fashion. Now im not talking about your average human walking down the street in NYC, Im talking about people moving in and out of vehicles and buildings. When they encounter a complicated device .. like say... a door, they become befuddled. Why do people think that doors are the equivalent to a Yellow Light? Lets take a subway for instance. On a subway car, the train can not continue to move unless the doors are closed. Even if it is full to the brim with people, so much that youre practically dry humping the person in front of you, that one more person thinks they can squeeze in? This person wedges themself in the smallest possible palce and without fail, something of theirs is left hanging outside of the train. The doors try to close and they can not. So there we are stuck until we all suddenly become double jointed and preform contortionist acts to let this son of a bitch in. You know what would please me? If all doors in the city were hydrolic enhanced spring loaded objects and were razor sharp. Imagine then how fast people would get the frick in or out of a train or bus... no more taking your dam time and trying to make everyone late for work.. if part of you is sticking out, its going to be severed and left behind. I can see it now... someguy: excuse me, please make room, I have to get on this train, there has to be room I know you can all squeeze just a lit.. *SHUNK* All Aboard mother fucker! bwa ha ha ha ha... When I create an isolated island off the coast of Mexico some day.. this is the technology i will have in place.. in my perfect world. kthxbye

Fuckin' NJTRANSIT:

If any of you have taken NJTransit for any reason then you really don’t have to read much further down. You already know the hell it is to have no other viable option to get to the city from certain parts of New Jersey. I’m not fuckin around here, its pretty bad. There are certain people who are always on this forsaken form of transportation. A few key people who you can bet your last dollar that they are there. They are the following.

Mr.Knees – You see him walking down the aisle towards you, he looks decent enough. He does not reek of urine, this is a bonus. Your average looking guy all the way around, until he sits behind you. Suddenly you are propelled forward in your seat at just below the speed of sound and strike the seat in front of you with enough force to cause a domino effect on all the passengers on your side of the train. People striking the seats in front of them with such force and velocity that the poor guy at the end of this lethal assault explodes into a bloody mist of vapor gore and bone and hair! The guy behind you… his knees are so far up into the back of your seat you can look down at your chest and make out the pattern of the cloth on his pants because its poking through your skin. Its like leaning back on a javelin the whole ride and he constantly moves his feet around to cause maximum discomfort. Maximum Discomfort is a priority in the njtransit system.

Mr.Cuddles – No matter how empty your bus or train is, no matter what time of day you travel. Mr. Cuddles will want to sit with you. You could have a pyramid of eggs, a landmine and three cases of Rattlesnakes in the seat beside you that you are transporting. You could even have a tattoo on your forehead that reads “Poor Impulse Control”. This guy wants you to move everything out of his way so he can sit down next to you. It does not matter that the seat in front of and behind you are completely empty. It does not matter how harsh a look you cast at him. It does not matter what you say or do, because this man is getting that seat if he has to stand the whole way home while you clear it off for him. Mr. Cuddles is incapeable of riding any form of transportation while sitting in a seat by him self. This guy is a relative of Mr. Knees too. He is not content now with having the seat next to you, no not quite content yet. He wants your seat too. And he is going to inch over ever so slowly closer to you the entire trip. His knees and elbows will seem to be slowly expanding and taking up more and more of your room until you are pressed so tightly against the window that you yourself are becoming transparent. This is his goal. The irony of this guy is astounding. He can not sit without you, yet he can not stand you sitting next to him. This guy I would love to kill. I would love to place my hand on his forehead for leverage, reach into his mouth and take hold of his bottom jaw and yank it off. And then I would like to punch him in the neck and face with his own jaw continually. But before I get to violently agitated telling you about this guy, let me move on to…

Mrs. Mom – Mrs. Mom is the lady who sits next to you, infallibly, with a child or two who is not quite bus/train broken yet. While the majority of the haggard, desperate people on this form of transportation are hoping to catch a few minutes of peaceful sleep, or get some last minute work done, or perhaps to relax and read a nice book, Mrs. Mom has other plans. Mrs. Mom is going to inevitably do something to piss her kid off so bad that it is going to scream bloody murder for a full hour. You’ll be moments from peaceful sleep, or about to get to the most exciting part of your book, or developing a new formula for a undiscovered cure for cancer on your laptop when suddenly it sounds like someone ran over a sack of vocally enhanced cats. They will continue to yell and scream for the entire trip. Mrs.Mom will do absolutely nothing to stop this and get an attitude with anyone who looks at her sideways about the yelling. God forbid you actually mention it, she’ll fuckin kill you.There are more characters I will share with you as time goes on. For now I want these people to sink in to your psyche. Invariably, one or two or all of them are always on my bus or train and sitting infront, behind or next to me the whole time. I shit you not. I'll revisit this for you later.

The Dichotomies of Temperature:

My towel in hand, I am a brave adventurer. I know it is time once again to use this device, this chamber of suck. The shower at my apartment. I often think that it is a living thing. A demon thing. Something with a vicious vengeful spirit who’s only purpose is to cause hate and discontent in my world. Yes, true it gets me clean, but then again so would a sand blaster or some brillo pads. As I reach past the miracle curtain (Ill explain why I call it that in a moment) and pull the water nozzle out, the flow of water starts. This is all seemingly very normal. I adjust the nozzle between hot and cold to find a pleasingly gentle temperature. I step in and let the water cascade over my head and down my back and close the miracle curtain. It is at this point that all reality becomes unhinged. Egon in Ghostbusters said it best: “Try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule in your body exploding at the speed of light”

Without warning or possible explanation, completely outside the realm of probability, the temperature shoots up. Wayyyy up. Like dangerously close to achieving nuclear fission hot. Of course my skin registers this, all the normal and expected pain messages are being sent, the brain is getting them but its mistakenly filed under “Bullshit” because nothing can be this hot. Before the annoying pain messages stack up to the point where the brain can no longer ignore this alarm, like a photographic negative the temperature shoots down. Wayyyy down. Even Lord William Thomson Kelvin, who developed the idea of the "Second Law of Thermodynamics", would be surprised and intrigued by this absence of heat. How does water stay liquid at absolute zero? How does my skin stay attached to my flesh? How am I possibly still alive? I did mention that reality becomes unhinged, didn’t I? I was not kidding. Then the granddaddy of all suck appears, the miracle curtain. Yes, that cheap piece of shit plastic curtain that I originally thought was a good idea at first. The curtain that is supposed to keep the shower water in the shower and off my floor. Supposed to keep a stable temperature between the rest of the bathroom and the interior of the shower. (hahahahahahaha… sorry). But what it does best would have the guys at Elmer’s, Crazy Glue, and Velcro pissing themselves for joy. It becomes a self propelled, intelligent predator. With the ability to keep its surface from sticking to anything at all, however bonding to my skin at a level so deep I can taste and cry polyvinyl chloride. No wait, stop and picture this. No, really its amusing. Me. The Dichotomies of Temperature blasting out of my shower head. My miracle curtain bonding to me and wrapping itself all over my limbs and leaking water all over my floor. You’re laughing aren’t you? Please god, laugh for me .. laugh or Ill cry.

There is one more thing to share about my showering experience. One final blow to my sanity. The last kick to the teeth before the day is ready to progress. As I fiddle with the nozzle in an attempt to stabilize the temperature, all the while fighting the curtain, and withholding the desire to scream and punch everything around me the curtain is whisked away. Pulled away from me as if by angels and I am free. Or am I? No.. I am not.. it was pulled off of me by my girlfriend who pokes her head in and removes every last shred of dignity I had, looks me up and down and yells in the aforementioned sonic blast voice “Hurry the fuck up, you take longer showers that a woman!” Having just suffered the scathingly cold air and fought the sub Kelvin scale temperatures of the water, you can well imagine, if you are a man, what that does to your nether region. I don’t care if your John motherfucking Holmes or Tommy Lee. When your “cock and ball housing group” is exposed to dangerously low temperatures it shrinks. Yeah.. so there I was. Shivering, naked, wet, not even fully awake, being yelled at. Pathetic. But the shower has ended and its time to dress. Heh.. talk to ya soon..

A digression:

I am going to take a small break from my tale to talk to you about the simple pleasures in life. Keeping in mind these are very personal and you may have the same or completely different ones. Normally a day in the life just moves along, you are carried along by it because time will not stop for you and you don’t have much of a choice. Sometimes however, sporadically during your day, something will amuse you. Brighten your day. I had one such occurrence today and I thought I would share it with you. I am a smoker, yes I partake of the great white cylindrical death enhancer. The cancer stick. Thus far I will say the whole experience has been somewhat non-rewarding. It is a means of self destruction that takes entirely too long and leaves your clothes and fingers smelling poorly. I wish it would just hurry the fuck up and kill me already, but no such luck. Anyhow, I work in a building in Manhattan where there are several other smokers. One of them I see often and she smokes with me. Now normally we stand there and look at people walking by or stare into space. However today she decides to speak to me and she tells me a funny story. She says: “This guy starts talking to me in a bar last night, trying to pick me up and asking for my number. I asked him if he was married, he says ta me, ‘whats it maddah’ (she is a 4ft tall 50 something year old Italian woman, thus the phonetic spelling of some of her words.. for ambiance) so I sayz ta him, whaddaya mean whats it maddah? Where’s ya wife tonight?. He sayz ta me, ‘she’z at home with da kids’ I sayz ta him how do you know?” At this point I laugh outloud and award her several levels of respect. She told me that no more than 10 minutes after he gave up on her he was on his cell phone calling home. How funny is this? This pleases me. A simple pleasure but one that I felt the need to share. Ok, the story shall continue… back to my commute.

Welcome to my hell! :)

Thanks for coming by and checking this out. You probably got here because you were doing a web search on something that interested you and this is what the search engine gave you. If that’s the case and you did not find what you are looking for, I am sorry in advance. If you were looking for this site, then I think it is safe to say either I know you personally or you have a penchant for self abuse. Maybe you can use the info you find here for self-discovery or maybe even a little chuckle at my pain. Make no mistake this site is about my pain. Why should you care? I don’t know. Maybe you will merely become quickly bored and make up your mind that I am in need of counseling... Deep, intensive counseling. Let me give you a little background on the author (that’s me) so maybe you can better appreciate what you will read.

I am a 34 year old Male. That alone speaks volumes for me I am sure. I am Eric Everybody, Christopher Common, Matthew Mundane. The most exciting thing I do everyday is to successfully get my deodorant on in the morning without getting any on the outside of my shirt. But I didn’t used to be a “nobody”. I used to have a pretty good life! But I’ll get more into that later. For now all you really need to know is that I live in New Jersey and I work in New York City. I am going to bring you up to speed on what my day is like soon enough, don’t you worry. But first we are going to have to cover some important facets of my day. Set the stage so to speak. It is important to me to get all this off my chest, share with you, the general public, my pain. You do of course remember that I told you this site is all about my pain, right? Well, if you’re still reading, this is the part you have been waiting for, the good stuff, the meat, the cream filling, all that and the bag of chips. Lets get started, shall we?