Sex is a big deal, no matter who you are. I am 24 years old and I have never had sex. Every girl who reads this will be thinking "good for you," while every guy who reads this will be thinking "dude, you need to get laid." Let me state, for the record, that I am NOT "saving myself for marriage." I AM, however, waiting until I am in a relationship with someone I care about. And there are girls I have cared/do care about that I would consider getting intimate with even if we weren't dating. I have had offers on a few occasions that I had to turn down, though. This is the story of one of them.
I had someone comment about the last post as to why both girls in my last post were called "whores" without an explanation. It's because both girls have offered to have sex with me, and I've turned down both of them. Now, I am generally not a shallow person. Both Tammi and Shelly are attractive girls, but I had to turn them both down because of my "rule." However, I must give a short and somewhat vague description of Tammi to give some perspective: She is taller than me and weighed the same as me (at the time this story takes place, anyway). So she was big, but pretty. And she would speak in a British accent, which I LOVED. And she gave me massages, which I also loved.
One day, Tammi, Shelly, and I went to an acquaintance's birthday party. The party consisted of the three of us, the birthday boy, and two other people. If we didn't go, he would've been pretty much alone, and I would have felt terrible (even though this guy was an INCREDIBLE ass-hat). So as I said, we went to his party. I didn't drink. The girls did. So after the party, I had to take Shelly back to her aunt's house, where she lived: 20 minutes away from Cedar Rapids. The whole way there, she talked about how drinking made her REALLY horny. So that made me REALLY uncomfortable. Her offer of sex came from that drive home, in which my response was simple:
"Do you want to have a relationship?"
"No, I just want to have sex!"
"Then no."
So I dropped her off at home and proceeded back to Cedar Rapids with Tammi. She didn't want to go home, yet, and she lived in Marion, so I was okay with not driving all the way there at that particular moment. So we stopped at Wal-Mart for snack food. While we were there, we passed the condoms and Tammi stopped.
"I'm buying these."
"Okay..."
"We should have sex tonight."
Now pheromones are a powerful bitch, people. I didn't say no. I didn't say yes, but I didn't say no. I shrugged and let her buy the condoms. And that was all we bought, because then we went back to my place. It was about midnight at this point.
For those of you who are incredible geeks, like me, you know what was on TV at midnight on Adult Swim in 2005. For those of you who aren't familiar, I will tell you: Futurama. If you don't know what Futurama is, google it. It is a fantastic show created by Matt Groening, the guy who created the Simpsons. But I digress.
So we were at my place, in my room (because my uncle was home, and I lived with him), with the door shut and Futurama on TV. I had the box of condoms in my hand and I passed them back and forth in my hands, thinking. And watching Futurama. Mostly watching Futurama. But I considered the consequences of doing this. Now, I knew she didn't want a relationship from this. She just wanted the sex. I was 19, a virgin, and here was a girl offering to change that. So of course, I considered it. Eventually I decided it wasn't worth it. So when Futurama was over, I took her home.
I want to point this out now, because I feel so proud about this: I am the ONLY guy she has ever offered sex to that has turned her down. And she OBSESSED over it for the next 2 years, at least. I'm sure if I still saw her and talked to her, it would bother her again. But yes, I can say this, and for that I'm proud.
Now I have two post-scripts to this story. First, the condoms' fates. They sat in my dresser drawer for about 2 weeks when Kent came over one day and started snooping around in my drawer. He found them, asked why I had them and then listened to this story. He laughed and told me he was taking them. I don't know if he ever used them, but after that there were no condoms in that particular dresser/room.
The second post-script came 2 years ago. New Year's Eve, 2007. I was hanging out with Stan and Jesse as well as our friends Topher and Frank at Topher and Jesse's house. We were planning on drinking at the house then going downtown to drink some more. I have apologized many times for this, because while drinking, I ruined Jesse's night and he ended up not coming out with us because of it. While Stan and I were making fun of each other, I stood up to go slap him. He ran down the hallway and as I came around the corner of the hallway, I stumbled (because I was drunk) and slammed into the wall, putting a two foot hole in the wall. I am a champion like that. Note to self: Do not chase Stan when drunk. Bad things happen.
Anyway, after I said I would pay for it and Jesse decided he wasn't going to go out with us, we started walking toward downtown. Luckily, another friend of ours, Lisa, was driving to the house to hang out. So she took us downtown, instead of us having to walk about a mile and a half.
I don't know about you guys, but when I think New Year downtown and picking up girls for said event, I think "hey, let's go to the gay bar." Now, that's sarcasm, for those of you who can't tell, but that's exactly where we went. Studio 13, where innocence is lost. I have always hated that place (not because I hate gays, but because it's crowded, noisy, and there's a lot of drug use going on... Okay, and it smells a little like astroglide), and yet I get dragged there at LEAST once a year.
When we got there, Tammi was sitting at the bar. Let me reiterate: I was DRUNK. And lonely. So I went right to her. We hadn't seen each other in a few months so we hugged. Then I mentioned that I had no one to kiss at midnight. And she said she didn't either. So we decided we'd kiss each other. I think this is hilarious: After midnight, when we kissed, she told me I was a really good kisser. As I remember it, it was wet and sloppy and there was far too much tongue involved. Maybe I'm just a very conservative kisser, I don't know. However, after that, I began randomly making out with her and feeling her up. Luckily, Stan, Lisa, Adam, and Topher all knew what would happen and dragged me out of the bar.
I lived about a block and a half from Studio, so I didn't have far to walk. I kept talking about how I wanted to go back and have sex with Tammi, but thankfully my friends kept me walking home. When I got home, I proceeded to sit on the couch and watch TV for a while before bed.
Here, my friends, is the post-script to the post-script. About an hour later, Frank calls me. He met this girl at Studio and they couldn't get a cab, so he wanted to know if they could stay at my place. Because that wouldn't be a mistake for me to say yes to. So I said yes. He brought the girl over, who I found out was 30 years old and had a kid. They pushed the couches together (the first time!) and we all went to bed.
I woke up at about 8 AM the next morning to the sounds of her moaning. Yes, people, Frank and this random girl were having sex on my couches. About an hour later, they left my apartment and I went back to sleep. When I woke up, I immediately flipped the cushions and hoped to GOD that there wasn't a used condom stuffed in there somewhere (Spoiler: There wasn't).
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Chasing Cars
In the Winter of 2004, I was just finishing up my first semester of college. I had made a few close friends that semester. This story is about them; the story called "A Banana, A Piece of Cinnamon Toast, and Two Whores in the Backseat."
It was a cold, wet, frozen night in early December. The Fall semester had just finished and I was celebrating with my friends Shelly, Adam Jones, and Tammi. We were going to watch another friend of ours, Anson, play a gig in Iowa City. But first, I had band practice back home.
I have to go back a few years to explain. When I was a Senior in high school, I started taking guitar lessons. There were three of us actually learning guitar, and one person to play bass and one to play drums. Eventually, our teacher decided to just have me sing, because I was already fairly proficient in guitar (at least to the degree that he could teach me, as he was a bassist not a guitarist) having been playing for a year. One of the other students stopped showing up all together, so we were left with a singer, a guitarist, a bassist, and a drummer. We were officially a band. This lasted two years until it became too much of a hassle to drive home from school every weekend to do this.
Since I was driving to Iowa City later on anyway, my friends decided they would just go watch me sing and then we'd make our trip. So before we left Cedar Rapids, we stopped at the Super Wal-Mart for provisions, because when I think snack food, I think Wal-Mart. Shelly bought these shitty pastries that were covered in cinnamon. That was it, no filling, nothing. Basically, it was just cinnamon toast that tasted like crap. I bought bananas to eat, because I do love me some bananas. We finished the bunch before we were even half way there.
After stocking up on snack food, or "num nums" as Shelly called them, we left for Victor. The trip down was nothing spectacular, except that it started to snow a little bit. I'm from a small town, so driving in snow is not a big deal for me. We got to the school where we held our band practices and they were already set up and ready to go. We ran through our normal set and tried a few new songs. Of the songs worth mentioning, I sang "Drive" by Incubus, which Shelly loved (and I despised) and "Behind Blue Eyes" by The Who, which made Shelly and Tammi start crying. They had never heard me sing before, so it was nice to know that my voice could move people to tears.
After our practice, we stopped at my dad's house for a few minutes to pick up a few things, such as CDs, money, and a special item that will be detailed in a later story. By the time we left, it was dark. Shelly informed me that she needed to go to Norway to get a few things, so I headed toward Belle Plaine, as there was a road to the East that was almost a straight shot to Norway.
On the way out of Belle Plaine, I had the radio blaring, and both girls prattling in the backseat. Suddenly, the car started drifting to the other side of the road. I started tapping the breaks, but it wasn't working; We were still drifting. I began turning my wheel to the right, and it still wasn't working. I had come to the conclusion we were going into the ditch. There were two ways of going in: The way we were going, which was sideways, or I could turn into and go down front first, keeping us from getting hurt and keeping my car upright. I turned the radio down.
"Hold on. We're going in the ditch."
"What?" from the backseat.
We drove down into the ditch and stopped in a drift. There was no way we were driving out. The car had turned off upon impact, so I had to turn it back on to keep us warm. My phone got no reception in that area, so it was all but useless. I had to borrow Adam's phone to make phone calls. I tried my dad, first, but he wasn't home and didn't have a cell phone. I tried a few other people, none of whom answered the phone. Finally, I called Kent, who answered. I told him my plight and he called his dad for us. During these phone calls, my friends decided to try flag people down as they drove by using the special item we had taken from my house. It was black, though, so it couldn't be seen clearly in the dark.
While we waited, we decided to throw away the cinnamon toast things. I had to urinate, so I just took them out with me. I threw them on the ground. Now, be warned, ye of faint heart, what I did next I'm not particularly proud of. Okay, I'm a little proud, just understand that it was very immature and I'm aware of it. I started to pee and did what most people do when they're in snow: I wrote my name. Obviously, my name is short, so it didn't take long and I had more urine. I thought it would be funny to pee on the cinnamon things. I got back in the car and announced what I had just done.
"I peed on those things we didn't like."
"You peed on the num nums?"
"Yes."
This got a big laugh from everyone. Shortly thereafter, Kent's dad came and picked us up and took us back to my dad's house. My dad still wasn't home. So we watched a movie that we had brought with us (or rather, I brought with us): "Harold and Kumar go to White Castle." A movie about people who are trying to get somewhere and keep running into obstacles. Sound familiar? About half way through the movie, my dad came home. There was no hello, only questions:
"What are you doing here?"
"Watching a movie."
"Where's your car?"
"Outside Belle Plaine... In the ditch..."
Dad flipped out. I explained what happened, so he decided to go out there. After he, in his truck, slid around on the same road a little bit, we finally got to where my car was. He parked on the side of the road and almost slipped and fell crossing it. He decided there was no way to get the car out that night. He also said he wasn't driving any farther than Belle Plaine that night, so we were all stuck there.
Adam is epileptic and he only had his night pills. So we had to call the pharmacist and make sure that we could go get some medicine for him in the morning so he wouldn't have a seizure. We figured out sleeping arrangements and went to bad shortly after. This was about midnight, so it wasn't that early. Tammi and Shelly slept out in the living room on our pull-out bed, Adam slept in the guest bedroom, and I slept in my own room. The next morning, my dad and I went to get Adam's medicine and on the way home he said what was possibly the most insensitive, yet funniest things I've ever heard someone say:
"So is this medicine for AIDS or something?"
I laughed so hard on the way home that I had tears streaming down my face. This made him laugh, so after I got my laugh out of the way, I explained about his epilepsy. Now, this may not seem as funny to most of you who are unfamiliar with my friend Adam, so let me explain: Adam is gay. Not super flamboyant, but still gay. I later told him about that, and he laughed so hard he almost started crying. My dad also told me that Shelly and Tammi were doing something weird out in the living room the night before, because he was hearing noises from the living room that were making him nervous. He seriously thought one of them was going to come and rape him. This made me laugh even harder; I almost threw up. Seriously.
After dropping off the medicine, my uncle came out and took my friends back to Cedar Rapids while my dad and I pulled my car out of the ditch, a process that took all of about 20 minutes. While he pulled it out, I surveyed the area around it and a dawning realization came over me: The "num nums" were gone! When I told my friends about this, a new phrase was born. "Joel peed on the num nums, and now they're gone." That joke is dependent on someone assuming that my piss makes food disappear. I never found it that funny, but everyone else involved did, thus I had to mention it.
So in effect, this story had a banana, a piece of cinnamon toast (or whatever those stupid things were), and two whores (Tammi and Shelly) in my backseat. Not a fantastic story, I'll admit, but one that is still remembered as the day the four of us became best friends. Especially when considering that these three people will come to play in many of the stories to come.
It was a cold, wet, frozen night in early December. The Fall semester had just finished and I was celebrating with my friends Shelly, Adam Jones, and Tammi. We were going to watch another friend of ours, Anson, play a gig in Iowa City. But first, I had band practice back home.
I have to go back a few years to explain. When I was a Senior in high school, I started taking guitar lessons. There were three of us actually learning guitar, and one person to play bass and one to play drums. Eventually, our teacher decided to just have me sing, because I was already fairly proficient in guitar (at least to the degree that he could teach me, as he was a bassist not a guitarist) having been playing for a year. One of the other students stopped showing up all together, so we were left with a singer, a guitarist, a bassist, and a drummer. We were officially a band. This lasted two years until it became too much of a hassle to drive home from school every weekend to do this.
Since I was driving to Iowa City later on anyway, my friends decided they would just go watch me sing and then we'd make our trip. So before we left Cedar Rapids, we stopped at the Super Wal-Mart for provisions, because when I think snack food, I think Wal-Mart. Shelly bought these shitty pastries that were covered in cinnamon. That was it, no filling, nothing. Basically, it was just cinnamon toast that tasted like crap. I bought bananas to eat, because I do love me some bananas. We finished the bunch before we were even half way there.
After stocking up on snack food, or "num nums" as Shelly called them, we left for Victor. The trip down was nothing spectacular, except that it started to snow a little bit. I'm from a small town, so driving in snow is not a big deal for me. We got to the school where we held our band practices and they were already set up and ready to go. We ran through our normal set and tried a few new songs. Of the songs worth mentioning, I sang "Drive" by Incubus, which Shelly loved (and I despised) and "Behind Blue Eyes" by The Who, which made Shelly and Tammi start crying. They had never heard me sing before, so it was nice to know that my voice could move people to tears.
After our practice, we stopped at my dad's house for a few minutes to pick up a few things, such as CDs, money, and a special item that will be detailed in a later story. By the time we left, it was dark. Shelly informed me that she needed to go to Norway to get a few things, so I headed toward Belle Plaine, as there was a road to the East that was almost a straight shot to Norway.
On the way out of Belle Plaine, I had the radio blaring, and both girls prattling in the backseat. Suddenly, the car started drifting to the other side of the road. I started tapping the breaks, but it wasn't working; We were still drifting. I began turning my wheel to the right, and it still wasn't working. I had come to the conclusion we were going into the ditch. There were two ways of going in: The way we were going, which was sideways, or I could turn into and go down front first, keeping us from getting hurt and keeping my car upright. I turned the radio down.
"Hold on. We're going in the ditch."
"What?" from the backseat.
We drove down into the ditch and stopped in a drift. There was no way we were driving out. The car had turned off upon impact, so I had to turn it back on to keep us warm. My phone got no reception in that area, so it was all but useless. I had to borrow Adam's phone to make phone calls. I tried my dad, first, but he wasn't home and didn't have a cell phone. I tried a few other people, none of whom answered the phone. Finally, I called Kent, who answered. I told him my plight and he called his dad for us. During these phone calls, my friends decided to try flag people down as they drove by using the special item we had taken from my house. It was black, though, so it couldn't be seen clearly in the dark.
While we waited, we decided to throw away the cinnamon toast things. I had to urinate, so I just took them out with me. I threw them on the ground. Now, be warned, ye of faint heart, what I did next I'm not particularly proud of. Okay, I'm a little proud, just understand that it was very immature and I'm aware of it. I started to pee and did what most people do when they're in snow: I wrote my name. Obviously, my name is short, so it didn't take long and I had more urine. I thought it would be funny to pee on the cinnamon things. I got back in the car and announced what I had just done.
"I peed on those things we didn't like."
"You peed on the num nums?"
"Yes."
This got a big laugh from everyone. Shortly thereafter, Kent's dad came and picked us up and took us back to my dad's house. My dad still wasn't home. So we watched a movie that we had brought with us (or rather, I brought with us): "Harold and Kumar go to White Castle." A movie about people who are trying to get somewhere and keep running into obstacles. Sound familiar? About half way through the movie, my dad came home. There was no hello, only questions:
"What are you doing here?"
"Watching a movie."
"Where's your car?"
"Outside Belle Plaine... In the ditch..."
Dad flipped out. I explained what happened, so he decided to go out there. After he, in his truck, slid around on the same road a little bit, we finally got to where my car was. He parked on the side of the road and almost slipped and fell crossing it. He decided there was no way to get the car out that night. He also said he wasn't driving any farther than Belle Plaine that night, so we were all stuck there.
Adam is epileptic and he only had his night pills. So we had to call the pharmacist and make sure that we could go get some medicine for him in the morning so he wouldn't have a seizure. We figured out sleeping arrangements and went to bad shortly after. This was about midnight, so it wasn't that early. Tammi and Shelly slept out in the living room on our pull-out bed, Adam slept in the guest bedroom, and I slept in my own room. The next morning, my dad and I went to get Adam's medicine and on the way home he said what was possibly the most insensitive, yet funniest things I've ever heard someone say:
"So is this medicine for AIDS or something?"
I laughed so hard on the way home that I had tears streaming down my face. This made him laugh, so after I got my laugh out of the way, I explained about his epilepsy. Now, this may not seem as funny to most of you who are unfamiliar with my friend Adam, so let me explain: Adam is gay. Not super flamboyant, but still gay. I later told him about that, and he laughed so hard he almost started crying. My dad also told me that Shelly and Tammi were doing something weird out in the living room the night before, because he was hearing noises from the living room that were making him nervous. He seriously thought one of them was going to come and rape him. This made me laugh even harder; I almost threw up. Seriously.
After dropping off the medicine, my uncle came out and took my friends back to Cedar Rapids while my dad and I pulled my car out of the ditch, a process that took all of about 20 minutes. While he pulled it out, I surveyed the area around it and a dawning realization came over me: The "num nums" were gone! When I told my friends about this, a new phrase was born. "Joel peed on the num nums, and now they're gone." That joke is dependent on someone assuming that my piss makes food disappear. I never found it that funny, but everyone else involved did, thus I had to mention it.
So in effect, this story had a banana, a piece of cinnamon toast (or whatever those stupid things were), and two whores (Tammi and Shelly) in my backseat. Not a fantastic story, I'll admit, but one that is still remembered as the day the four of us became best friends. Especially when considering that these three people will come to play in many of the stories to come.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Death For My Birthday
Before I begin, I must warn you of a few things. This story truly angers me. It’s funny, but infuriating for me at the same time. I now refer to it as "The Pretty Boy Birthday Card Debacle"
As with most good stories, it’s about a girl. Her name was Teri. I met her while at Kirkwood, when I was in choir and while doing stuff in the theatre. We pretty much hung out in the same area with the same group of people. She was cute, so I sacked up and began talking to her one day. Eventually, she asked when my birthday was. March 7. “Oh my God, so is mine!” Awesome, I’m in! Right?
Wrong. We talked more and more and she added me on Facebook. This was before Facebook was the stalker’s handbook. Well, as our shared birthday grew closer, I had a party set up with my friends. My friends Stan and Jesse were going to cook an awesome dinner, then serve some snacks for the party after the dinner. The dinner consisted of about 20 people, all of whom were close friends and their significant others. The party, however, was about 50 people. Not all at once, mind you, people floated in and out, but Stan and Jesse left after their clean up.
This is a small break from the story, but I want to take a moment to talk about Stan and Jesse’s meal. It cost all together about $300. So we had to charge the dinner guests $5 to cover it, most of which ended up getting covered by me, Stan, or Jesse, anyway. People were pissed, but we decided it was the only way to do it. And there was no way to weed out people, otherwise they’d be pissed they didn’t get to have the dinner. Either way, it was a lose-lose situation. It was a glorious and delicious meal that apparently only the three of us enjoyed. Everyone else bitched about the meal for one reason or another, and those who didn’t had a problem with the snacks. I want to go on record as saying that it was a fantastic meal, and because of Stan and Jesse, it was the BEST birthday I’ve ever had. And I thank them for being so cool about all the shit they had to do and the 14 hour day they put in for it. I appreciate it.
Back to the story: So when inviting people to the party, I figured I should invite Teri. She said yes, so I was excited. The day of the party, she called and asked if she could bring a friend with her. Sure, why not, the more the merrier! I told my roommate at the time, Cory. His response was “dude that’s awesome, maybe you’ll get lucky!” Oh, Cory, how I love you.
Now I know I can’t list everyone who was at the party, I honestly can’t REMEMBER most of the party. I do need to make special mention of a few key characters. Jack and April, the married couple, came and brought me a can of Colt 45 for my birthday. I never drank it. Cory’s friend Jim came down, whom I’d only met once. When Teri and her friend Joy finally came, I was kind of nervous to talk to her. It’s good to mention that as charming and awesome as I am, I have never been able to talk well around girls I had crushes on. The few that I could (and can) were special exceptions and if they’re reading this right now, you should feel special.
So for the first hour or so that the girls were there, Cory and Jim talked to them the whole time. Every time I tried to join in, Jim would push me out of the way. Literally. So I would walk away and join Jack and April to bitch to them what was happening. They got pissed about it and dragged Cory out to talk to him. They told him about what was going on, so when he rejoined the group, he began talking me up like I was Jesus himself. He may have in fact ACTUALLY said I was Jesus. With him, you never really know what’s going to come out of his mouth.
Jack and April had their own plan to get me in with Teri, as well. Cory had an iPod hooked up to the stereo system in the basement, so they went over to it and started playing slow songs. They turned my party into an 8th grade school dance, complete with hands on the hips, hands on the shoulders dancing. I had just turned 21 so, of course, I must be in 8th grade. Well, whatever, it worked. Teri danced with me, Cory danced with Joy, and Jim stood in the corner and watched. Revenge is sweet, my friends.
At the end of the night, Teri invited me to a party she was throwing the following week at her apartment to celebrate her and Joy’s birthday. Cory and Joy had apparently hit it off, because he got the same invite. We were psyched, so we began thinking of a brilliant birthday present. One day, Cory calls me while he’s at work.
“I got it!” Before I even said hello.
“The Clap?”
“No! The birthday present!”
“Okay…”
“We’re going to make a card!”
“That’s lame.”
“No, it’s going to be a HUGE card with our pictures inside!”
“I don’t follow…”
He laid out the entire plan for me. We buy a giant piece of construction paper, a glue stick, some glitter, a disposable camera, and a Teen Beat magazine. That’s right, a TEEN BEAT MAGAZINE! Where could this possibly be going? The plan was to cut out pictures of “pretty boys” and paste them on the cover of this card with the words “We wanted a bunch of cute guys to say Happy Birthday to you…” and then on the inside there would be a slew of pictures of Cory and me in different outfits and the words “…But all we could find were these guys.” Okay, I thought it was clever, so I was down with it.
We went to work on the card immediately. Two days before, we decided to do our little photo shoot and get drunk while doing it. It was a lot of fun putting in the work for this card. We got the photos developed the next day, and that night we started pasting the pictures on the card. While cutting out pictures from the Teen Beat, we noticed a lot of Pete Wentz from Fallout Boy was on it. Well, Teri liked Fallout Boy, so we decided to put them ALL on the card. We had so many pictures of “cute boys” on the front of that thing, the magazine was basically just tatters. And, the coup de grace, on the back we had a big picture of Mr. Wentz with the caption “In case you didn’t get enough Pete Wentz.” We thought it was hilarious.
That Saturday, we went to the party, card in hand in a gigantic envelope that Cory made, which… I really can’t remember how he made that. It also had a fake stamp of Abraham Lincoln that said “Great Mistakes in History: “Well I don’t really WANT to go to the theatre, but I have these tickets…” Brilliant joke, in my opinion. Anyway, we get to the party and it consists of Teri, Joy, and three of their friends from High School, one of whom earned the nickname Chad, somehow. There is no story behind it; we just didn’t know her name, so Cory called her Chad. Well, the entire night, Cory and I got snubbed by Teri and Joy. We gave them the card, expecting an “Oh my God, that’s so funny and awesome” but instead got “Look at all the cute boys on the front!” We told them to read it, and they did, but they didn’t as much as GLANCE at our pictures. They finished reading it and went right back to “cute boys on the cover. Why is there no Zac Efron?!” This phrase would come to haunt us. We had pictures of this kid, but didn’t know who he was at the time, so we didn’t think they would either. Oh, boy, were we mistaken.
About an hour into this party, after playing a board game with the ice queens and their friends, Teri had a “brilliant” idea. “Let’s dance!” Okay, then. Cory and I sat back and watched because, well, there’s nothing cuter than a group of girls dancing. Teri went and got what I thought was a CD and put it in her DVD player. Okay, still. She turned on the TV and my jaw dropped. She had put in High School Musical. THE MOVIE!!! Apparently, there is a special “Dance-along” feature, which she then proceeded to dance along with, followed by Joy, Chad, and the other two who I don’t even care to remember their names. They danced along with the movie, and Cory and I did the movie-slow-head-turn to look at each other. He mouthed the word “Bail” and I nodded. As soon as the girls were done dancing, we stood up and said our goodbyes and walked out the door. As soon as it was closed behind us, we RAN to our cars.
“I think tonight’s a good night to get drunk, don’t you?” Cory asked.
“Oh, definitely. “
So we stopped and grabbed a 24 pack of beer and went home where we proceeded to try and drink the night away from our memory. Obviously, that didn’t work or you wouldn’t be reading this story right now. We both deleted the girls’ numbers from our phones and never talked to them again. That didn’t seem to bother Teri, so I’m okay with it. In fact, I saw her at a party a couple years ago and STILL haven’t talked to her.
Cory eventually talked to Joy again, and got this explanation for their behavior: “Well, it was originally going to be a party when we invited you, but then no one showed up but us five girls, so we were turning it into kind of a high school reunion thing, and then you guys showed up. Sorry we snubbed you.” At least SHE had the decency to apologize and explain it. I still saw Teri in the hall at school and never once did she try talking to me again. Hence, my anger toward this situation. To this day, I have never and never plan to see High School Musical or its sequels. I don’t care if the music is “catchy.” Oh, and for those of you who may not know, Zac Efron is the lead actor in High School Musical. I guess that should have been an early clue as to the mindset these girls were in.
Except for Chad. Chad was the shit.
As with most good stories, it’s about a girl. Her name was Teri. I met her while at Kirkwood, when I was in choir and while doing stuff in the theatre. We pretty much hung out in the same area with the same group of people. She was cute, so I sacked up and began talking to her one day. Eventually, she asked when my birthday was. March 7. “Oh my God, so is mine!” Awesome, I’m in! Right?
Wrong. We talked more and more and she added me on Facebook. This was before Facebook was the stalker’s handbook. Well, as our shared birthday grew closer, I had a party set up with my friends. My friends Stan and Jesse were going to cook an awesome dinner, then serve some snacks for the party after the dinner. The dinner consisted of about 20 people, all of whom were close friends and their significant others. The party, however, was about 50 people. Not all at once, mind you, people floated in and out, but Stan and Jesse left after their clean up.
This is a small break from the story, but I want to take a moment to talk about Stan and Jesse’s meal. It cost all together about $300. So we had to charge the dinner guests $5 to cover it, most of which ended up getting covered by me, Stan, or Jesse, anyway. People were pissed, but we decided it was the only way to do it. And there was no way to weed out people, otherwise they’d be pissed they didn’t get to have the dinner. Either way, it was a lose-lose situation. It was a glorious and delicious meal that apparently only the three of us enjoyed. Everyone else bitched about the meal for one reason or another, and those who didn’t had a problem with the snacks. I want to go on record as saying that it was a fantastic meal, and because of Stan and Jesse, it was the BEST birthday I’ve ever had. And I thank them for being so cool about all the shit they had to do and the 14 hour day they put in for it. I appreciate it.
Back to the story: So when inviting people to the party, I figured I should invite Teri. She said yes, so I was excited. The day of the party, she called and asked if she could bring a friend with her. Sure, why not, the more the merrier! I told my roommate at the time, Cory. His response was “dude that’s awesome, maybe you’ll get lucky!” Oh, Cory, how I love you.
Now I know I can’t list everyone who was at the party, I honestly can’t REMEMBER most of the party. I do need to make special mention of a few key characters. Jack and April, the married couple, came and brought me a can of Colt 45 for my birthday. I never drank it. Cory’s friend Jim came down, whom I’d only met once. When Teri and her friend Joy finally came, I was kind of nervous to talk to her. It’s good to mention that as charming and awesome as I am, I have never been able to talk well around girls I had crushes on. The few that I could (and can) were special exceptions and if they’re reading this right now, you should feel special.
So for the first hour or so that the girls were there, Cory and Jim talked to them the whole time. Every time I tried to join in, Jim would push me out of the way. Literally. So I would walk away and join Jack and April to bitch to them what was happening. They got pissed about it and dragged Cory out to talk to him. They told him about what was going on, so when he rejoined the group, he began talking me up like I was Jesus himself. He may have in fact ACTUALLY said I was Jesus. With him, you never really know what’s going to come out of his mouth.
Jack and April had their own plan to get me in with Teri, as well. Cory had an iPod hooked up to the stereo system in the basement, so they went over to it and started playing slow songs. They turned my party into an 8th grade school dance, complete with hands on the hips, hands on the shoulders dancing. I had just turned 21 so, of course, I must be in 8th grade. Well, whatever, it worked. Teri danced with me, Cory danced with Joy, and Jim stood in the corner and watched. Revenge is sweet, my friends.
At the end of the night, Teri invited me to a party she was throwing the following week at her apartment to celebrate her and Joy’s birthday. Cory and Joy had apparently hit it off, because he got the same invite. We were psyched, so we began thinking of a brilliant birthday present. One day, Cory calls me while he’s at work.
“I got it!” Before I even said hello.
“The Clap?”
“No! The birthday present!”
“Okay…”
“We’re going to make a card!”
“That’s lame.”
“No, it’s going to be a HUGE card with our pictures inside!”
“I don’t follow…”
He laid out the entire plan for me. We buy a giant piece of construction paper, a glue stick, some glitter, a disposable camera, and a Teen Beat magazine. That’s right, a TEEN BEAT MAGAZINE! Where could this possibly be going? The plan was to cut out pictures of “pretty boys” and paste them on the cover of this card with the words “We wanted a bunch of cute guys to say Happy Birthday to you…” and then on the inside there would be a slew of pictures of Cory and me in different outfits and the words “…But all we could find were these guys.” Okay, I thought it was clever, so I was down with it.
We went to work on the card immediately. Two days before, we decided to do our little photo shoot and get drunk while doing it. It was a lot of fun putting in the work for this card. We got the photos developed the next day, and that night we started pasting the pictures on the card. While cutting out pictures from the Teen Beat, we noticed a lot of Pete Wentz from Fallout Boy was on it. Well, Teri liked Fallout Boy, so we decided to put them ALL on the card. We had so many pictures of “cute boys” on the front of that thing, the magazine was basically just tatters. And, the coup de grace, on the back we had a big picture of Mr. Wentz with the caption “In case you didn’t get enough Pete Wentz.” We thought it was hilarious.
That Saturday, we went to the party, card in hand in a gigantic envelope that Cory made, which… I really can’t remember how he made that. It also had a fake stamp of Abraham Lincoln that said “Great Mistakes in History: “Well I don’t really WANT to go to the theatre, but I have these tickets…” Brilliant joke, in my opinion. Anyway, we get to the party and it consists of Teri, Joy, and three of their friends from High School, one of whom earned the nickname Chad, somehow. There is no story behind it; we just didn’t know her name, so Cory called her Chad. Well, the entire night, Cory and I got snubbed by Teri and Joy. We gave them the card, expecting an “Oh my God, that’s so funny and awesome” but instead got “Look at all the cute boys on the front!” We told them to read it, and they did, but they didn’t as much as GLANCE at our pictures. They finished reading it and went right back to “cute boys on the cover. Why is there no Zac Efron?!” This phrase would come to haunt us. We had pictures of this kid, but didn’t know who he was at the time, so we didn’t think they would either. Oh, boy, were we mistaken.
About an hour into this party, after playing a board game with the ice queens and their friends, Teri had a “brilliant” idea. “Let’s dance!” Okay, then. Cory and I sat back and watched because, well, there’s nothing cuter than a group of girls dancing. Teri went and got what I thought was a CD and put it in her DVD player. Okay, still. She turned on the TV and my jaw dropped. She had put in High School Musical. THE MOVIE!!! Apparently, there is a special “Dance-along” feature, which she then proceeded to dance along with, followed by Joy, Chad, and the other two who I don’t even care to remember their names. They danced along with the movie, and Cory and I did the movie-slow-head-turn to look at each other. He mouthed the word “Bail” and I nodded. As soon as the girls were done dancing, we stood up and said our goodbyes and walked out the door. As soon as it was closed behind us, we RAN to our cars.
“I think tonight’s a good night to get drunk, don’t you?” Cory asked.
“Oh, definitely. “
So we stopped and grabbed a 24 pack of beer and went home where we proceeded to try and drink the night away from our memory. Obviously, that didn’t work or you wouldn’t be reading this story right now. We both deleted the girls’ numbers from our phones and never talked to them again. That didn’t seem to bother Teri, so I’m okay with it. In fact, I saw her at a party a couple years ago and STILL haven’t talked to her.
Cory eventually talked to Joy again, and got this explanation for their behavior: “Well, it was originally going to be a party when we invited you, but then no one showed up but us five girls, so we were turning it into kind of a high school reunion thing, and then you guys showed up. Sorry we snubbed you.” At least SHE had the decency to apologize and explain it. I still saw Teri in the hall at school and never once did she try talking to me again. Hence, my anger toward this situation. To this day, I have never and never plan to see High School Musical or its sequels. I don’t care if the music is “catchy.” Oh, and for those of you who may not know, Zac Efron is the lead actor in High School Musical. I guess that should have been an early clue as to the mindset these girls were in.
Except for Chad. Chad was the shit.
Photograph
These are the photo shoot pictures of me:
And these are the ones of us making the card itself and just goofing off in general that night:
And these are of the birthday dinner:
And these are the ones of us making the card itself and just goofing off in general that night:
And these are of the birthday dinner:
Friday, March 12, 2010
Counting Blue Cars
This story is about the day I got my license and all the trouble I got into with it. Kids, do NOT do this, even though it makes for one hell of a story to tell. My best friend in high school, Kent Roth, was along for this one (He wanted me to use his name, so I will; If I put a last name, it’s probably a real name).
It was March 9, 2002, two days after my birthday. I had just gone with my dad to get my license after failing the driving test on my birthday. Now before you start to think “Oh, he’s a terrible driver, he failed his driving test the first time” let me assure you, IT WAS NOT MY FAULT! The person driving with me failed me for what is a VERY stupid reason. I was at a four-way stop and an old man was about to cross the street. I was waiting for him to cross, but instead he waved me through. So I went. The instructor failed me because, and I quote “pedestrians ALWAYS have the right of way, even if they wave you on.” I had to wait two days to try again. Luckily, the next time I tried I didn’t have to drive, so I got my license.
That night, there was a play at the school I had just transferred from, EV. There was a girl in the play who I had a crush on when I was at EV, Bethany. Embarrassing story with that one, I wrote her a love note when I was 15. She showed her friends, they all got a good laugh out of it. Good thing I wasn’t going to school with them, anymore. Anyway, Bethany invited me up to watch her play, some piece of shit play that had some good actors, but just wasn’t good in general. It may have been written by the director, I’m not entirely sure about that. Bethany was the star, though, and I was mesmerized by her presence. Thank you, hormones. Oh, and I dragged Kent along with me. And my friend, Johnny, met us there to hang out.
Anyway, I sat through two hours of this god awful play, clapped and told everyone afterward “Oh, it was really good, you did great, etc.” Yes, I said et cetera to one of them. Seriously. I thought it was funny, but then again, I’m a dick. I talked to Bethany for a little while after the play, before her boyfriend came over and things got a little uncomfortable. See, HE knew I had a crush on her, too. So Kent, Johnny, and I left to just drive around and hang out for a while.
Somehow, we came upon a brilliant idea: Put Johnny in the trunk of the car and drive around with him back there! All three of us thought it was a great idea, so Johnny crawled in the trunk and we sped off into the night. We drove around the town for, like, 45 minutes, and then I went out on a gravel road and started to purposely swerve. We had the radio cranked up as high as it would go, so I didn’t hear anything except that. Kent, however, heard a noise. So I turned down the radio, and sure enough, there was a loud banging coming from the trunk. I opened the trunk and Johnny jumped out, slammed the trunk shut, and began walking. He walked right past the car, and looked PISSED. Kent and I looked at each other for a moment.
“Dude, we could get in a lot of trouble for doing that,” was Kent’s response.
I started to worry, so I drove up alongside Johnny and started trying to calm him down. It wasn’t working at all. So I did the only thing I could think of; the thing I was about to regret saying and subsequently doing.
“Do you want to drive, and I’ll get in the trunk?” An eye for an eye seemed like a good idea at the time. Kent’s eyes became as wide as saucers and he started shaking his head no. Johnny stopped in his tracks and turned toward the car, a HUGE grin on his face. He nodded excitedly and opened the driver door for me. Reluctantly I got out of the car and opened the trunk. I got inside and rested my head where the tire was. Now would be a good time to mention one very important fact about my car at the time: The shocks were… well, they were pretty much nonexistent. Johnny slammed the trunk door shut and suddenly the car was moving VERY quickly. Another good fact to mention about my car is that it was an old police interceptor. For the vehicle illiterate, this meant there were no restrictor plates. THIS meant that the car went VERY fast. Are you starting to see where this is going?
Johnny sped the car up to at least 90, Kent later told me. The problem with an eye for an eye is that, usually, the second person taking the eye is going to be much nastier about it. He did donuts in parking lots, he swerved, he sped, and he slammed on the brakes. It wasn’t until he dropped off a curb that the car, having no shocks, bounced me up in the air and slammed my head down onto the area that was previously being used as a resting place for my noggin. I screamed in pain and the car stopped. The trunk opened, and Johnny and Kent came back to check on me. I staggered out of the trunk, literally seeing stars in front of my eyes as I did. They asked if I was okay. I nodded and Johnny handed me my keys. I immediately took him home then did the same for Kent and myself.
On the way back, Kent was laughing. “Dude, that was a BAD idea.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I tried to tell you not to do it.”
“I didn’t want to get in trouble…”
That night, Kent stayed the night. He was a bit of a night owl, and I ended up staying up until 5 A.M. before I finally passed out. Kent didn’t sleep at all that night. Now, I’m not sure if this was a previously existing condition or if it was caused by my head getting slammed in the trunk, but that night is the first time I was told that I talk in my sleep. Kent told me the next morning that, while I didn’t speak full sentences, I said one name in my sleep over and over. “Bethany.” I have no recollection of any dream involving her and I had no idea I was saying her name.
I have since said many things in my sleep, most of which I don’t remember. One time, I did wake myself up yelling “knock it the fuck off” in my sleep. I have also been told that I said “What is causing this infraction in my faith” while sleeping. These are just a few examples that I remember. If I say other things, I have yet to know about them. So if you ever find yourself sleeping next to me or even in the next room, prepare to hear something crazy come out of my mouth and remember that I have no idea what I’m saying.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Overrated (Everything Is)
I had a friend when I was in high school... We no longer talk that often because of the events of this story... But I had a friend when I was in high school. I used to go to her house all the time because her brother was my best friend. Let's call her Mandy and we'll call him Elliot. Mandy was my age and I told her about all the people I had crushes on throughout high school. This is where most stories go "then she told all of them, and they laughed at me." This is not most stories.
Mandy was, in fact, the BEST secret keeper I've ever encountered. Ever since I started school at HLV, I had a crush on this girl, we'll call her Jamie. This crush lasted from when I met her until she began dating some guy who was a year older than us. He was a douche, so therefore will be referred to as Douche. When Jamie and Douche started dating, I did what I always do when a girl I like gets a boyfriend: I drop my feelings like a bad habit. Over the years, this has become harder and harder for me to do, to the point where it actually causes me physical pain to get rid of the feelings. Nevertheless, they were gone.
Shortly after, I began dating someone myself. Let's say her name was Amy. Amy was my first real girlfriend, and I thought I loved her. For 6 months. Until I broke up with her. Different story for a different day. Jamie and Douche had also broken up at this point, so it didn't take long for my feelings to come back. Slowly, yes, but eventually just as strong as they had been before. I told Mandy about my feelings for Jamie, and told her not to tell anyone. Jamie had also made the comment that she would never date me because I had dated her best friend, Amy. This comment was apropos of nothing, but I was dejected nonetheless.
Then I met Ophelia. For the remainder of this post, just assume all the names are made up. They always will be, unless the person actually WANTS me to use their real name. Anyway, Ophelia was a friend of Jamie and Amy's that I met while dating Amy. She was from a different town, so I didn't see her all the time like Jamie, Mandy, Elliot, Amy, and so on. After we broke up, I kept in contact with Ophelia. We'd talk on MSN (because that was the cool thing back then, to talk on IMs all the time) every night and my Junior prom was coming up and I needed a date. I asked Ophelia, and she said yes. We went to prom, had a really good time, and I developed feelings for her. My feelings for Jamie faded away at this point. I told Mandy about my feelings, and her reaction was "Oh, cool!"
A year goes by, and nothing had happened with Ophelia. It was my senior prom, I didn't have a date, I had planned on asking Jamie, but she already had a date. So another friend of mine, Kitty, was going to go with me. Then out of nowhere, her boyfriend, who hadn't wanted to go to prom, decided he wanted to go. So I was, again, dateless. I asked Ophelia, who I still talked to on a fairly regular basis. She said yes. It was a date once again. I talked about it to Mandy who was really excited about it.
Prom came and went, graduation came and went, and still no relationship came from Ophelia or Jamie. I went off to college, made friends, and forgot about my feelings for both girls over time. One day, Elliot told me to come visit him on a weekend, so I did that very next weekend. Mandy was home (she had moved to another state and back by this time) and we started reminiscing about high school. We talked about all the girls I had a crush on back then. Her response was like a kick to the stomach:
"You know, Jamie and Ophelia both liked you a lot."
"What?" I was flabbergasted. I really didn't know what to say at this point.
"Yeah. Jamie told me she liked you, but she wanted you to try harder to get her."
"...She told me she'd never date me because I dated Amy..." I was a little bit angry at this point.
"Yeah, she apparently meant that to mean 'try harder, stupid." Mandy laughed.
"And you never told me..."
"She told me not to."
"And Ophelia?"
"She told me at prom that she really liked you and wanted to date you, but she didn't know if you liked her, too."
"You knew I liked her. Why didn't you tell her?"
"You told me not to tell anyone."
"Then why didn't you tell me that she liked ME!?" I was furious at this point.
"She told me not to. There were a lot of girls who told me they liked you, but told me not to tell." She then listed off another four or five names of girls that, had I known, I definitely would have dated.
I had no more words. Elliot was there, and luckily he had words, whereas I did not. He began yelling at her for hiding all of that stuff from me. Eventually, not saying anything, Elliot and I went to his room where I proceeded to rant and rave about all the information I just received. As I said at the beginning, I no longer talk to Mandy that often, not only because of this incident, but also because she has once again moved away and it's difficult to keep in touch with someone who moves out of state. A small piece of me still holds a grudge against her for that. Such is life, though, and my world would be a completely different place had the circumstances been different. Whether my life would be better or worse, no one will ever know. All I can do is continue to live my life and hope for the best.
Mandy was, in fact, the BEST secret keeper I've ever encountered. Ever since I started school at HLV, I had a crush on this girl, we'll call her Jamie. This crush lasted from when I met her until she began dating some guy who was a year older than us. He was a douche, so therefore will be referred to as Douche. When Jamie and Douche started dating, I did what I always do when a girl I like gets a boyfriend: I drop my feelings like a bad habit. Over the years, this has become harder and harder for me to do, to the point where it actually causes me physical pain to get rid of the feelings. Nevertheless, they were gone.
Shortly after, I began dating someone myself. Let's say her name was Amy. Amy was my first real girlfriend, and I thought I loved her. For 6 months. Until I broke up with her. Different story for a different day. Jamie and Douche had also broken up at this point, so it didn't take long for my feelings to come back. Slowly, yes, but eventually just as strong as they had been before. I told Mandy about my feelings for Jamie, and told her not to tell anyone. Jamie had also made the comment that she would never date me because I had dated her best friend, Amy. This comment was apropos of nothing, but I was dejected nonetheless.
Then I met Ophelia. For the remainder of this post, just assume all the names are made up. They always will be, unless the person actually WANTS me to use their real name. Anyway, Ophelia was a friend of Jamie and Amy's that I met while dating Amy. She was from a different town, so I didn't see her all the time like Jamie, Mandy, Elliot, Amy, and so on. After we broke up, I kept in contact with Ophelia. We'd talk on MSN (because that was the cool thing back then, to talk on IMs all the time) every night and my Junior prom was coming up and I needed a date. I asked Ophelia, and she said yes. We went to prom, had a really good time, and I developed feelings for her. My feelings for Jamie faded away at this point. I told Mandy about my feelings, and her reaction was "Oh, cool!"
A year goes by, and nothing had happened with Ophelia. It was my senior prom, I didn't have a date, I had planned on asking Jamie, but she already had a date. So another friend of mine, Kitty, was going to go with me. Then out of nowhere, her boyfriend, who hadn't wanted to go to prom, decided he wanted to go. So I was, again, dateless. I asked Ophelia, who I still talked to on a fairly regular basis. She said yes. It was a date once again. I talked about it to Mandy who was really excited about it.
Prom came and went, graduation came and went, and still no relationship came from Ophelia or Jamie. I went off to college, made friends, and forgot about my feelings for both girls over time. One day, Elliot told me to come visit him on a weekend, so I did that very next weekend. Mandy was home (she had moved to another state and back by this time) and we started reminiscing about high school. We talked about all the girls I had a crush on back then. Her response was like a kick to the stomach:
"You know, Jamie and Ophelia both liked you a lot."
"What?" I was flabbergasted. I really didn't know what to say at this point.
"Yeah. Jamie told me she liked you, but she wanted you to try harder to get her."
"...She told me she'd never date me because I dated Amy..." I was a little bit angry at this point.
"Yeah, she apparently meant that to mean 'try harder, stupid." Mandy laughed.
"And you never told me..."
"She told me not to."
"And Ophelia?"
"She told me at prom that she really liked you and wanted to date you, but she didn't know if you liked her, too."
"You knew I liked her. Why didn't you tell her?"
"You told me not to tell anyone."
"Then why didn't you tell me that she liked ME!?" I was furious at this point.
"She told me not to. There were a lot of girls who told me they liked you, but told me not to tell." She then listed off another four or five names of girls that, had I known, I definitely would have dated.
I had no more words. Elliot was there, and luckily he had words, whereas I did not. He began yelling at her for hiding all of that stuff from me. Eventually, not saying anything, Elliot and I went to his room where I proceeded to rant and rave about all the information I just received. As I said at the beginning, I no longer talk to Mandy that often, not only because of this incident, but also because she has once again moved away and it's difficult to keep in touch with someone who moves out of state. A small piece of me still holds a grudge against her for that. Such is life, though, and my world would be a completely different place had the circumstances been different. Whether my life would be better or worse, no one will ever know. All I can do is continue to live my life and hope for the best.
My First Blog
The title of this entry is a little misleading. I have tried on many occasions to start a blog, but always find myself getting bored very quickly. This is mostly because I run out of things to say. So I've decided to try again, but with a different angle: On top of the usual "This is my life, isn't it funny/sad/mediocre" type of blog, I'm going to review things as well. I'm going to review movies, TV series, comics, video games, music, restaurants in my area, and anything else I feel merits being rated by someone with no affiliations to anything and who generally does nothing to give back to society.
I will let the readers know a few things about myself. My name is Joel W. Collins, I am a 24 year old Cinema and Comparative Literature major at the University of Iowa. I am about to graduate with a BA after 6 years. I eventually want to go to grad school for creative writing, but am planning on taking at least a year off to just relax from school and work to get some of my debt whittled away. Long term, I want to move to LA and become an actor and screenwriter. High hopes, I am well aware. I, like many people, have a mother, a father, a stepfather, a stepbrother, and a sister. I also have many friends, acquaintances, coworkers, dominatrices, gimps, pimps, whores, and other people who, on the whole, are just fantastic to be around. I love them all, even when they are slightly unlovable.
I am a geek, a freak, a weirdo, a nerd, a perv, and any other adjective you can use to describe an all around good guy who just doesn't care what anyone else thinks about him or the things he likes. I curse like a sailor, I hate people in general (but will give anyone a chance), and I make fun of anyone and everyone I feel deserves it (which is pretty much everyone). I am both a great guy and a terrible person. It's all a matter of perspective, I suppose.
I try to be funny, and some think I am. Others think I'm not, but I always try to be. My comedy ranges from stupid puns to intelligent quips, from movie quotes to original phrases. Hopefully everyone will enjoy the things I have to talk about and I will try my best to be entertaining to all. I hope this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship with whomever decides they want to read my humble ramblings.
Welcome to my diary. The Diary of a Fat Guy.
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