It's about how much you can take, and keep movin' forward

I'm good like that. Stay strong woman. Don't ever let'em see you cry. And watch this. You need to.

“Come away, O human child: To the waters and the wild with a fairy, hand in hand, For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.”

Got your message... I am so very, very sorry. You will make it through... You are a tough girl, one of the strongest I've ever met.

Ain't No Love in the Heart of the City

It's 12:40 a.m. on a Friday night, and the text messages start coming through, one after another and four in a minute, one worse than the other. They show all of the reasons I hate her; the other girl has taken over as soon as some semblance of insecurity strikes, and my girl is gone.

She is a great girl, one that I care about deeply... but I don't deal well with being told what to do or who to report to. Whether this works or not is in the air, but one thing I learned long ago was never trade yourself or your spirit for any woman.

I end up leaving the bar, and arguing for an hour over nothing... and I hate her, but I know if she leaves, I will miss her terribly. For all the trouble she gives me, there is something about this girl that keeps me there with her. I think it's her smile, her sense of humor, that makes me forget about all the rest of the world for a minute, and just focus on now. It's her optimism, her cheerfulness that I could never emulate myself.

But the ugliness has started, the "you don't open up to me" and the "we don't go out to dinner enough." The things that make men all over the world cringe and shake their heads. I don't want it to go that way; I've never had a relationship like that and I don't plan on it. There are many paths here, only some of them pleasant... and even then, I wonder if they will be only pleasant for her.

I've been reading a lot lately about physics and string theory, the possibility of multiverses. They say that there might be a universe that has you after every decision you didn't make, after every event that didn't happen, and shows all the roads you didn't take. Somewhere, I wonder if there's one where I am with Alex and Ryer's still alive. We would have been dating for over three years now, and who knows how things would be. And Ryer... he wouldn't haunt my dreams as he has so recently.

Sometimes I wish I was in that universe, instead of this faltering world of constant letdowns and perennial heartbreak.

Zombie Land

Go see it. Hard to believe, I know, but Woody Harrelson is a role model for me. And I'm so close to changing my name to "Tallahassee" that you wouldn't believe it.

My puppy is digging out a foxhole behind the oak tree in my backyard. We found a stash nearby of AK-47's, four bandoliers, three grenades, some claymores and a ka-bar knife but we're not sure if it's related. I think she's waiting for "Zee Germans."

No Question

Confused.

Cold

The temperature has dropped off sharply in the last few days, a quiet reminder that summer here always ends too soon. I'm not dreading winter like I used to; I think because I'm no longer a manly man who works outside, I stopped caring what month it is. Besides this, two of the most beautiful, energetic, and evil puppies in the history of the world have brought an unbridled amount of energy into the house. Their wildness can hold off winter all on its own.

In a couple weeks I will be camping, out in the wilderness in a way I haven't been in many years. It'll be good for me, because big, ironic things are happening daily. I might not believe in God, but I certainly believe in his sense of humor.

On that note, here's some old school soul to keep your day rollin.

Cicatrix manet

Old school soul

The well is deep and old.
You just keep on going back.
Bring up that fresh water.

I am dropping her off outside her house after seeing The Ugly Truth and having it hit a little too close to home. She's a gorgeous brunette, older than me, who I've got it bad for. The Kanye song, "Gold Digger" comes on the radio.

"You ain't a gold digger, are you?" I ask her.

She laughs at me. "No, I'm not."

"You sure?"

She laughs again.

"Yup... I don't care about money and I'm not a gold digger."

"Ahh.. ok," I say, as we pull into her driveway ironically filled with two Lexuses and a BMW.

"Well, I do, and I am. So good luck," I tell her with a grin. She laughs, kisses me.

Its been a long time.

I, like God, do not play with dice and do not believe in coincidence.

It is supremely ironic that the first time I am published in one of the area's largest newspapers also happens to be the old man's birthday.

The Final Bell..

Words cannot express my sorrow about the loss of New Jersey's real-life Rocky, the legendary Arturo Gatti.

The boxer was found strangled in Brazil, right before he was set to testify against the NY State Athletic Commission. How fucking coincidental.

Arturo, your state loved you. You inspired and amazed us all with the brutal wars you fought in the ring, and you showed the heart of a lion in an age that finds men lacking otherwise. You were a fixture on the boardwalk and in the ring in Atlantic City, and you were our hometown hero- the little Italian guy from Jersey who fought the best in the world no matter how outmatched he was, who never once quit, and who always, always went out on his shield.

We love you, and will always remember you. God bless Arturo.

A tribute a friend of mine made to him..

Observations

1) I need new joints. I got through two Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu classes before I landed wrong on my shoulder, heard two pops, and felt it dislocate. Again. So now I have to try and rehab it again before I can think about going back. Of course, I am so pissed about this I have decided that I'm going to build my rotator cuffs up so much it's ridiculous. I plan on having them stick up out of my shoulders in two months, like a shirt that you left on the hanger too long.


2) If I was this 12-year-old broad that surived that survived this plane crash:
http://www.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/meast/07/01/yemen.plane.survivor/index.html

I don't know that I would ever fly again.

On the one hand, the chances have to be really low that she'll ever be in a crash again. On the other hand, if she is, then the chances are really fucking low that she'll survive a second one. It is likely that I would be like John Madden if I was her- taking buses everywhere. Maybe a boat... but I saw Titanic, and I'm not fond of that either.


3) I was trying to make fun of the Catholic Church for this:

http://www.cnn.com/2009/WORLD/europe/06/29/vatican.st.paul.bones/index.html?iref=newssearch

Why? Because how come carbon dating is allowed in reference to bones, but not to determine the age of the Earth? 6,000 years old my ass.

Of course, I got my Magical Space Gods and their followers mixed up, and I learned that apparently Catholics believe in both the Big Bang and the Earth being 4.5 billion years old. Fuckers. Last time I went to Church, I thought we Catholics still hated science, Jews, and astronomers.

Oh how times change.


4) I use Facebook exclusively to insult the shit out of my friends. We're not a very loving bunch... in fact, if you witnessed our internet exchages as a third party you'd probably think that when we got together it looked like a whiskey-soaked version of Bloodsport. In reality, we love each other dearly.... but choose to express it by posting on walls about how, "Dave <3's 8====D."

The best part of that? I forgot the emoticon for "cock," so I had to google it. Surprisingly enough, I wasn't the first.

The Google rules.

Believe it or not

I'm actually really upset that Michael Jackson died.

As a 25-year-old guy that grew up in the 80's, you had three idols when you were young; guys that were so awesome and so cool that you'd have given your right nut just to have an ounce of their swagger: Mike Tyson, Michael Jordan, and Michael Jackson.

These guys could do it all- they were at the top of their respective fields, and there may not ever be others that can match the sheer talent that they possessed. That's probably part of the reason that two of the three self-destructed entirely... but that's a topic for another time.

Either way... we'll see you at The Crossroads Michael.

Not for nothin

But I knew it was you right away. Nobody else calls me "buddy" and no one else I know says, "FYI." You gave yourself away woman....

And secondly, if I don't publish the comments, I can't respond to them. And my responses are half the fun. Unless you want me to keep talking through Bon Jovi videos, in which case there are only so many before I get to "You Give Love a Bad Name." ;)




**For those that can't tell, this is to my great challenging woman that has yet to come back to me. I'll talk to her all damn day on this thing, deal with it fuckers.