The Winchester

It's safe to say I was never really a fan of school. There are two slight exceptions to that statement, one of which being the first week or so of every year.  For some reason, one that I attribute to brief psychotic episodes, I was up and raring to go bright and early for the first week.  Every day I would wake up with plenty of time to spare, and typically get to either school itself or the bus stop very early.  I would stuff my backpack with excitement and adventure, then head off to an institute of learning, all bright eyed and bushy tailed and ready to ace every test those cool new teachers threw at me. The second week, it took my Mom 30 minutes at least to get my lazy ass out of bed.  I would stall, then trudge to the bus stop, scowling the whole way, indignant at being awoken before lunchtime.  My backpack was heavier, my old uncool teachers were ants to be squashed beneath my shoe, and every other person besides me and my friends sucked.  This was the type of malign that ev

   I don't get to see my friend Joe nearly as much as I should.  This is a guy I met when I was roughly 3 to 4 years old and have been friends with all my life.  This is a guy I intend to stay friends with for the rest of my life.  We grew up, for the first part of our childhood, in the same neighborhood of townhouses.  In fact, we both had end units, and we could walk to each others houses via a creek running through the neighborhood.  It was pretty sweet.    Our childhood consisted of making up rules for the game we invented, "Supercars" (a game consisting of matchbox cars and hours of the phrase 'Let's pretend...' that kept us from actually playing at all), trading Star Wars toys, and mucking around in the creek looking for things that we did not want to touch and yet felt compelled to touch.    He lives in White Marsh these days, while I reside in Elkridge.  This is a 30 minute drive or so, and with his normal schedule and my television crappy schedule, so

Alright, the title may be misleading.  It's really about Inanimate Rage and Me, but it sounded more professional and official using the word You.  At least, in my mind, which is really all that matters. I have an anger problem.  I do not start fights with humans.  I am not that confrontational, and refrain from physical scuffles whenever possible.  I tend to attempt a verbal diffusion  in fight situations, and if that doesn't work I (a) curl up into a ball and whimper, or (b) allow one of my more physically inclined and close to insane friends to take on an aggressor in my stead.  It has worked so far, as I have not been in a fight, nor do I intend to get into one. When it comes to inanimate objects, I do not have such reserve.  Inanimate objects produce obscene rage that I end up punching walls, breaking things, hitting counter tops , kicking couches, and cursing at items bereft of ears. My phone's external screen does not work anymore, after my phone did not act as it was

I am engaged to be married. Now, before you ladies get all depressed and furrow-browed, allow me to add that before I became engaged you didn't have a chance anyway, and, truth be told, I am probably too good for you. So there's that. Yes, after almost exactly two and a half years of dating (and living together for the heavy majority of that), Nichole and myself will be tying the knot. Then, after we finish with our shoes, we'll get hitched. Then, after finishing with the horse and carriage, we'll get married. Tentatively in May of 2009, but I am getting ahead of myself. I decided to do this for two reasons. The first and foremost, I felt it was time. She, being a member of the female species, has been ready for awhile now, but I was not. Not for lack of love or enthusiasm for the idea, I just did not feel the time was right. It is now. Or was now? Is now was? None of that sounds right. The other reason was where we are in our relationship and in life. We have put in fo

I do not recall the last time I spoke of this, and to be quite frank with you, it may not have been on this blog.  Might have been the ol' MySpace page that I'm 30 and shouldn't have. Well, I am down 32 pounds total so far.  Actually, that's probably at 30 or so now, as I gained a couple the other week.  Still, though, pretty good.  I still have a long way to go, but we're getting there. This is with not being able to work out for a month, too.  Over the course of 4 weeks I was 1) sick, 102 fever; 2) Participated in the Polar Bear Plunge, which I intend to write about soon; 3) sick again, 102 fever again; 4) minor back surgery.  It was a fun run! The back surgery was nothing bad, really.  I had two sebaceous cysts on the upper middle left-ish part of my back and had to have them drained and fixed and sewn up.  I would go into the whole draining thing and what came out, but I want to spare you in case you are reading this blog over supper as many, many people do.

A few days ago, I went to Safeway for dinner as I did not bring any with me to work.  Man's gotta eat.  Even a dieting man. The Safeway near my work seems to be a vortex.  Now, there are several definitions of a vortex, but dictionary.com has two I would like to share: 5. something regarded as drawing into its powerful current everything that surrounds it:  the vortex of war. 6. (in Cartesian philosophy) a rapid rotatory movement of cosmic matter about a center, regarded as accounting for the origin or phenomena of bodies or systems of bodies in space. In the case of this Safeway, it is a vortex of Odd.  My first instinct is to apply it to the word Stupidity, but that would just be rude to my fellow shoppers.  The better word is Odd. So there I was, in line with my goods, in the process of mulling over which rag mag I was not intending to buy, when a lady got in line behind me.  She had a total of 3 items, although I cannot recall exactly what the said items were.  This being a 1

First, an explanation and apology.  An apology to myself, more than anyone else.  I apologize for taking so long to come back.  I have not posted a post since December of last year, after keeping an erratic yet normal writing schedule.  I did not write all the time, but neither did I let it get to be so long before reigniting the flame of passion I carry within myself for unimportant and derivative opinions vomited onto the internet. I don't know why I let it get to be so.  I have said before that I am lazy, and that definitely has something to do with it, but I cannot cast all the blame on such a personality trait.  I think I was also blocked, like I would not let myself get back to one of the things I enjoy so well; the crafting of sentences, the turn of a phrase, the attempting to use large words to add ambiguity and uncertainty to my scripture, the subtle Use Of Capitalization to further my already obvious and uplifting point of view, the unadulterated wit that flows forth from