Some day when I grow up I wanna be a ....

During my twenties that became my theme phrase. Over time I gravitated to computers and programming, which I've taught myself ninety percent. I've made a decent living over the past decade or so and now with my business I can really see the potential. Of course I also see how I can be downgraded and out of business as well.

But the edge I've been walking has really nothing about how I'm suppose to make money to feed my dependants. (I love the buggers!) It is that vibe I've been feeling all my life. It isn't about me deciding what I want to be, but rather acting upon my instincts and saying to hell with it. I'm gonna do what I wanna do, I want to create something. I've often been steered (moo?) towards writing. Something I really enjoy since I can't draw shit. (Turds are very messy and I just can't capture their essence.)

I wonder if I have a voice for podcasting? I wonder if I could come up with material on a weekly basis for a consistant podcast. I'd think about doing video, but I'd have to direct something since I'd scare viewers away I'm sure. (ooo pron!) The point is, would doing a podcast be something I would enjoy? I dunno. Back in the day when I'd try to woo women, I'd make tapes. Cutting songs, sound bites and such together to get a 'feeling' across to whoever I was aiming it towards. (See the movie High Fidelity) I thought I was pretty good at it. But most important, I had fun.

My last effort flopped. Not because of quality, but because of delivery. I created a three part opera with humor, romance and spice. Something you'd probably only want to hear once, giggle and then be on with life unless it was directed to you. Other than a few people in the inner circle, I don't think there would be much call for something like that. So I'm left to wonder what I would do...

Then the idea struck me. One of my many problems is the inability to make a decision of what I want to create. Even when I'm writing, most of my problems come from trying to be absolute genius when I can't be. I know it might be disappointing to hear from some, but I can't compete with my inner self. The is idea is to turn off this internal editor and have fun. With everything. Writing, splicing, playing or whatever I'm trying to do so that I can be creative and have fun with it. Then expose to the world and say, "Fuck you. I did this and you'll either like it, hate it or don't give a shit." And dear reader, it is up to me to be fine with however it is received. As long as I'm content on what I produced was fun. The point being is that I need to be able to appriciate what I can do.

I think that is why artists often have large eogs. They stick themselves out there and don't allow anyone to deflate them. Even when something goes wrong, it is their ability to pick themselves up and try again. Those that can't fade away into the distant memories of one-hit wonders.

Now....how can I cause trouble.

seeya laterz

Hell week

Yep that is what it has been. Monday limped in like a lamb, but since I knew I had to travel, this week had its own dangerous curves ahead. It didn't help that I awoke at 3am on Tuesday morning running into the bathroom. By the time the alarm was supposed to sound, I found myself looking at myself in the mirror. Do I call the company and reschedule or suck it up and wade through the day feeling as I do? The face in the mirror only wanted to go back to bed. A small man in his stomach flipped over and over on the trapeze. The glimmer of water in the toliet caught his attention. Maybe if I forced a purge all would be better and the annoying man inside would fly out and leave my stomach alone. Should I shove a finger to the back of my throat? Would I feel better if I did so? The answers to these questions are not blowing in the wind my friend, but surged upwards without any finger probbing to the back of my throat.

With a grunt and a heave, a gush of stale dew and other chunks of partially digested food flew threw my mouth and nose. Not once or twice, but three times as I hung onto the edges of the white bowl that had earlier served as my thrown for almost two hours. Horrible. Now fluid squirted out of both orafices of my body. With nothing else left in my system, I staggered back to the sink and doused my face with clean water. I cleaned myself up, brushed my teeth a few times and considered myself feeling better.

I'll spare more of the gorey details of the next couple of days, but let me say they let me go to the hotel early on Tuesday. It is now Thursday afternoon, I'm back home and I'm still feeling green around the edges. I have wierd pains where I shouldn't and every once in a while I become light headed and don't want to even think of the consquences if it were to continue.

Work is piling up as companies are gearing for the end of the year. November was busy in a non-payment sort of way while December through Feb is looking thrice as busy and I'll be able to invoice people for it as well. The worst time to be sick.

Today I was able to accomplish some things, but in reality I didn't want to be here. For the sake of my sanity, I'm really hoping I feel better so I can be less stressful about the holidays and get ahead with work.

Otherwise...I'm me being me. How about you?

outta here

Thanksgiving is only overshadowed by Black Friday. Funny how the USA terms the busiest shopping day after an event that lead to one of the darkest periods in our nation's history. But oh well what are you going to do? Well I stayed in and worked on my new writing website. I revamped how I'm displaying my poetry and stories. It isn't finished yet, but check it out here: Bob's poetry and short stories.

I thikn it will be pretty cool when I am completely finished. I'm also hoping by going over some of my own stuff it will inspire me to continue a story or create a new one. I've probably spent way too much time on this little project as it is, but it has taught me some valuable things for work so it has had its benefits.

I need a shower....raises his eyes up...I wonder...nah nevermind (snickers at his own nasty thoughts...)

outta here

Ever wonder during your existence in this world if you are the main character or a sub-character? Am I supposed to have an important role in all of this or am I destined to be the comical relief and serve the other performers of the play so they give a better performance? I think I'm stuck in between these two and I have a hard time breaking out. Or maybe I don't know what the hell I'm talking about and I should shut up. Yeah. Damn now I'm wondering if I'm an extra. Doh.

outta here

On-line Poker.

Yep. I took the plunge. Wil Wheaton hosts a weekly online poker tournament. The main one is on Friday nights, but I entered into the the Thursday Texas hold 'em warmup action. There were 70 or so people signed up. Its only a $10 buy in so it isn't like I'm selling the family farm to pay my gambling debts.

Anyways, I waited until 9:30 my time and *ding* the action begins. I win 3 hands, but loose a slightly bigger hand. Then about ten minutes later I have an Ace/9 dealt to me. On the flop a Jack, Queen and another card (like a 6 or something) turns up. The bets are small and I stay in. I probably shouldn't have, but with the Ace in my hand I figure someone has to have a pair to beat me and the bet was reasonable enough for me to stay in. On the turn an Ace turns over, the player to my right (Guniess) makes a sizeable bet. With the queen/jack showing I figure I have a pretty good chance of winning or spliting the pot if he has an Ace as well so I call. The rest of the table folds.

On the river, the last of the five over turned cards, another Ace appears. I have three aces now. Guniess is first to bet and makes a large bet. Instead of thinking why he would come out with such a bet, I still figure I have three aces and queen jack. He'd only beat me if he had two aces or ace/king. Before I thought about it, I hit the call button and all of a sudden I'm all in. Damn.

The computer shows me his hand, Ace/Queen he has a full house. It beats my three aces. I finish 63rd out of 70 people. I went with having the most money on the table to out. But it was fun. I also learned quite a bit. I think I'll try playing next week again, but be a bit more cautious with my play. I know I'm an aggressive player, but think a bit before I more.

On a side note, I'm working on revamping my writing site. the www.twizzlesticks.50megs.com site has been up for a long time. I have some neat ideas for it and will announce it here as well as sending an email out to all of those who have previously viewed it. I'll even try to add some new content. Egads! That means I might have to write something....

ciao baby

Wednesday's are my day off from the gym. My legs need it otherwise by the weekend I can't walk. Today I'm being hip and writing my blog at an Altanta Bread Co. which provides free wire-less internet connection. So amongst all the office people I'm sitting here pretending to be geekie, but in reality I'm typing away on my 'puter. The food isn't too bad either, although I wish they had a smaller size of soup.

If you haven't noticed, I've been posting more. I'm not sure why really, but it makes me think of writing a bunch more. I guess on the grand scheme of things its good. It means I'm writing something which is what I want to eventually do. Secondly, I'm able to express some things that I've been stewing inside my guts for the past few months.

Why I fail.

I believe I understand why I fail in my private life. I don't fail in my professional life because it is a different world. For the most part, all I have to do is communicate with the computer. The personal relationships I make in the business world is that, business. I do my job rather well and people respect that of me.

Personnally I believe I'm too impatient. I jump at the chance to make something work. I want it and I want it now. I don't allow things to develop or realize it isn't time yet. In all aspects of my life. Instead of running marathon's I'm running wind sprints with people. I usually exhaust them before the chance of anything real can take hold. Or at least that is what I think I do, its been so long I don't remember, heh. This application of impatience can take on many forms, but even when I'm alone I'm in a hurry to have someone. This solves nothing as I'm looking for the next soul to lean on whether or not I should be looking for it. Sometimes as I have realized it is good to be alone so you can get your thoughts in order so that when you do meet someone you are ready for it.

Being ready may not always mean financially ready. For the most part it is emotional. This question of readiness is about allowing that person to be themselves. You are as comfortable with them as you are without them. Of course as the relationship builds, the bonds grow and the spirit of wanting them more apart of your life increases, but because you are secure with yourself there is no hurry. It is pleasant for them to be in your life.

What really messes me up is sex. As any typical guy, I think about it WAY too much. My alarm remains silent and yet I'm wishing someone next to me would roll over and begin something. Realize in my dreams, morning breath and pillow hair are not part of the equation. Heh. I write about it, I watch it and I think about it. I want that body near me, next to me and I want to carass, kiss and stimulate a passion and an emotion from someone. Then I'm impatient. I want that feeling of knowing I can exact a response from a woman. The tender sigh of pleasure. The voice that flirts with me, begging me to write them something, something personal and hot. I feed upon it. And I feel dangerous and unstoppable when I know I've written something so juicy that gets them wet when they read it. I want to devour someone and I want them to feed upon me.

gotta run

The perfect evening...

(or at least one of many)

On a cold winter's night, we decide to have a beach party in our bedroom. A picnic basket full of cut fruit, cheese and a bottle of wine (or other favorite drinks) is packed while we turn the heat up in the house. While you get dressed in your swimsuit, I take the time in the bedroom to light various scented candles that would remind us of the beach. I even play a cd with that repeats the sounds of the seashore. You can begin to hear the waves crashing and seagulls crying when you step out of the bathroom.

On the bed, I've spread out a blanket and laid out the food. Its now my turn to run and change my clothes. Meanwhile, you've taken the suntan lotion out, spread a bit on your legs and arms so the scent of the cocoa butter is now in the air.

I come back and find you wearing your sunglasses. I giggle a bit and commend you on your improvisational skills. We settle down next to each other as I pour the drinks into the clear plastic glasses while you dish us up some slices of fruit and bits of meat and cheese onto paper plates. I feel your body relax as you merge into my chest, soaking the image we created in the bedroom. I take a grape from your plate and hold it to your mouth while you nibble it out of my hand. Your lips touch the tips of my fingers as I let out a submissive sigh. I reach down and grab an orange peel and continue to feed you. Some of the juice trickles down your chin and I gather it up with my finger. I'm about to bring it up to my own mouth when you grasp my hand to stop me. In slow motion, you bring it back to your mouth and suck on my finger with a little bite at the end. I'm about ready to throw everything off the bed and attack you, but I also want to savor the mood we've created.

I find another slice of orange and as I'm bringing it to place it in your mouth I squeeze a few drops of citrus nectar on your chest. You smile as you open wide and let me insert the orange slice into your mouth. I lean over and lap the few drops off your skin up towards your neck, but I rise up and kiss your lips. We end the kiss with a slight smack and our tongues brushing each other as we taste the acidic juice off each other.

Sooner or later my taste buds would have the need to taste the sweetest fruit in the world. Even though we would only be beginning, I would delve my tongue on your clit until waves of your juices trickled down my chin where I would use my own finger to catch them.

My dear it would only end up perfect if I made love to you where we would feel the waves crash over us and drowned in the desires of each other's hearts. Only to be outdone the next night in another encounter with your beautiful soul.