A Lady Luck Love Affair

And it hits me, hard yet soft, a sudden realization that is only beginning to dawn; the truth I’ve so long avoided. No matter what I do, I’ll be yours. No matter the distance, no matter the reason, the space, the time, I’m yours. You’ve got this hold on me, and it won’t stop. Your grip isn’t hard, it isn’t rough, but it’s persistent, everlasting. It’s like you’ve left a mark, branded me with your initials, for all to see.

It matters not where I go, they all know. It’s like they see you on me, behind me, ever-present, a constant reminder of your influence. You’re inescapable, and it’s inevitable that I’ll return. It’s not what I feel I want…but that realization continues to sink in, and I realize it doesn’t matter. I’m yours no matter what.

My Kind of Christmas Song

Now this is my kind of Christmas song. Do this for me, and you might be my hero. Scratch that, you will be my hero. Its early, but Merry Christmas all...

On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
A hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.

On the second day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Two shots of Jack,
And a hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.

On the third day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Three Heinekens,
Two shots of Jack,
And a hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Four Jager bombs,
Three Heinekens,
Two shots of Jack,
And a hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.

On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Five GOLDschläger shots!
Four Jager bombs,
Three Heinekens,
Two shots of Jack,
And a hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Six Irish car bombs,
Five GOLDschläger shots!
Four Jager bombs,
Three Heinekens,
Two shots of Jack,
And a hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.

On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Seven cups of Natty,
Six Irish car bombs,
Five GOLDschläger shots!
Four Jager bombs,
Three Heinekens,
Two shots of Jack,
And a hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Eight margaritas,
Seven cups of Natty,
Six Irish car bombs,
Five GOLDschläger shots!
Four Jager bombs,
Three Heinekens,
Two shots of Jack,
And a hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.

On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Nine ice luges,
Eight margaritas,
Seven cups of Natty,
Six Irish car bombs,
Five GOLDschläger shots!
Four Jager bombs,
Three Heinekens,
Two shots of Jack,
And a hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.


On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Ten vodka shooters,
Nine ice luges,
Eight margaritas,
Seven cups of Natty,
Six Irish car bombs,
Five GOLDschläger shots!
Four Jager bombs,
Three Heinekens,
Two shots of Jack,
And a hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.


On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Eleven kamikazes,
Ten vodka shooters,
Nine ice luges,
Eight margaritas,
Seven cups of Natty,
Six Irish car bombs,
Five GOLDschläger shots!
Four Jager bombs,
Three Heinekens,
Two shots of Jack,
And a hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love sent to me
Twelve pints of Guinness,
Eleven kamikazes,
Ten vodka shooters,
Nine ice luges,
Eight margaritas,
Seven cups of Natty,
Six Irish car bombs,
Five GOLDschläger shots!
Four Jager bombs,
Three Heinekens,
Two shots of Jack,
And a hot chocolate spiked with Baileys.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Typical Post-Dinner Convo

Tonight after dinner, the family and I discussed a few things. Nothing too out of the ordinary, just a recap of the day’s events really. After all Walmart always prompts quite a few interesting conversations, especially when you hate the store.

WARNING: These topics aren’t for those who are easily offended, have a modest sense of humor, or are of weak moral fortitude. Just so you know.

Undying Addiction

Another poem, not quite as old as the first.

"Undying Addiction"

You say goodbye
Cut the rope, sever the lifeline
It's over, beyond dead and done
Like time, simply past

What you needed has gone
It died when she changed
That which you lived for has
Disappeared, changed, transformed
Morphed into irrecognizable

But its a lie.
Nothing but a falsity told to appease
A sad joke to fake a smile
A farse gone awry

The Truth About College

While wasting time on Facebook like any good college student does, I discovered that someone posted this link about the truth of college which undoubtedly came from someone else's Facebook page, which came from a friend, which was originally posted by a friend's friend who is an idiot and didn't update their security settings. Because honestly, if you don't tweak your privacy settings, you're just an idiot - any college Facebook user can tell you this. The one thing this article doesn't mention is the rampant use of Facebook, but I can forgive them for that. After all, I'd have nothing to add to this post if they had. Here's the truth about college...


College is a bunch of rooms where you sit for 2,000 hours or so and try to memorize things. The  2,000 hours are spread out over four years. You spend the rest of the time sleeping, partying, and trying to get dates.

Basically, you learn two kinds of things in college:

1. Things you will need to know in later life (two hours).

2. Things you will not need to know in later life (1,998 hours).

The latter are the things you learn in classes whose names end in -ology, -osophy, -istry, -ics, and so on. The idea is you memorize these things, then write them down in little exam books, then forget them. If you fail to forget them, you become a professor and have to stay in college for the rest of your life.

Suicide By Love

This is old, and I mean really old...we're talking like freshmen-year-of-high school old. I think I was 15 when this was written. This may be one of the first pieces I wrote for personal reasons, and really felt like it was worth something. At the time this was how I felt about a good friend; that person and I no longer talk. But at the time, the emotions were strong, so thanks to a pen, notebook, and headphones playing The Fray, this is what I was able to make.

"Suicide by Love"

What do you do when you love but can't speak?
The words are there
They're on the tip of your tongue
Constantly on your mind
Telling her those three words is all you think about

So True

While none of these are my original ideas, I do agree with just about all of them. Most are from Texts From Last Night or My Life Is Average, both of which I've been on before for the antics of my far too talkative mouth. Enjoy.

I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option.

More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me.

Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.

The letters T and G are very close to each other on a keyboard. This recently became all too apparent to me. Consequently, I will never be ending a work email with the phrase "Regards" again.

Do you remember when you were a kid playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it, and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.

There is a great need for sarcasm font.

Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the f*** was going on when I first saw it.

A Simple Request

A simple request: keep me out of your drama. Especially if you won't take the advice I give you, or at least consider it. Don't ask for help you don't want. Don't waste my time. My life is tumultuous enough as is, I don't need your bullshit piled on top of it. If you're going to involve me, then expect me to be involved. Don't tell me every detail, and then expect me not to react. It doesn't work that way. Maybe in the fantasy world you live in, but not in my reality. My life may be weird, all over the place, and more like a roller coaster than most, but I'm still human and I still have emotions.

So keep me out of the bullshit, or expect me to be fully involved. Even if that means you won't like either outcome, because those are your only options.

Stealing Since Day One, Yo

You're damn right I steal. I steal all the time. I steal the music that resonates in my head, the beats that drive me on, the phrases I can't forget, the lyrics I sing, the words I recreate, I steal all my inspiration from that around me. Its the world I live in that makes me see things in a new way. I steal from this non-normal life I live in - its that theft that makes me unique, and my life one of a kind.

So dammit, I'm going to steal until the day I die.
(Even that phrase is stolen.)

Thank you Jim Jarmusch.

Pillar

My latest writing piece. No particular person in mind when this was written. Comments and critiques gladly accepted.

"Pillar"

You didn’t see, but I could hardly hold myself together that day. The pillar you lean on nearly crumbled; this pillar nearly fell to your feet. But you were oblivious. A look to your smile, that beaming countenance, was all it took to reel myself back in. Your joy was all it took to keep my spine from slivering away. I had tried to let you know I didn’t want to be there, but it never worked. Time and time again I wanted to let you know that this was the farthest thing from what I wanted, but I couldn’t. You had me.

Subway Stairwells Lead to Nowhere

So last night I went to a THON social. If you don't know what THON is, check out the link for more info - I'm not explaining it all here. Keep in mind, I'm not part of the group that was throwing the social. I was just tagging along with my friend Tiff. Our team didn't win the race, but we still had a good time. Somehow a girl from my Comm class was there and recognized me...this notoriety is getting a little out of hand. It was a good time, but they were a little short on booze, so Tiff and I left early to hit up Subway.

This was the creepiest Subway I've ever been to...this hallway to the bathroom looked straight out of a zombie movie. As can be seen in the picture, there's a stairwell at the bottom of this hallway. So of course we had to go check it out...it just wouldn't be me if I didn't. There's a door at the end, and we really wanted to know where it goes. Because let's be honest, you can't trust the girl who made your sandwich to tell you where it really goes. So we began our adventure, after finding a random ITS door in the hallway...I still haven't figured out what that one was doing there. Like really? ITS needs a direct Subway hook up? The food is good, but not that good.

After stopping to take some pictures - this had to be documented - we began our descent into the abyss of the Subway stairwell, with the intent of going who-knows-where. Slowly, we descended the steps, adding commentary as we went, until we reached the door. A sign above the handle said it was locked, but we are at the number 1 party school. People know better than to let the drunks think they can go through any door. And we drunks know better than to believe any posted sign. Alas, the door was locked, and we ran up the stairs, for fear of being caught. Until next time Subway door...I will show you who's boss. Check out the video to get a better feel of what happened.

Tiff and I at Subway on Burrowes, before our stairwell adventure.
Fall Semester 09
Good times

Wanted for Contempt of Court

Surprise, I'm wanted in court. Well, I should say "was wanted," seeing as I missed the court dates - unknowingly.

How did I find this out? An irate call from my mom, asking what the hell I did this time, and who I knew named David. Not exactly the phone call I wanted to get while trying to finish the book I've been reading for the 5th time. At this point, I'm considering giving up on the book, despite the fact that I need to know if they find the ancient relic, ruin the world, and kill the megalomaniac. The Last Templar is good, but with the way things are going, I don't think I'll ever finish the last 20 pages. So there I am, reading, when my mom calls, practically screaming, thinking I've committed some heinous crime in Georgia, trying to figure out what her son did.

As the summons/warrant read, I was expected in a Forsyth County court in Georgia to testify in the criminal trial of the state of Georgia v. David Pingleton. The summons was sent to the dorm I lived in last year, which was then forwarded to my house, too late for me to make an appearance.

I can deal with all of this, except for one thing...
WHO THE HELL IS DAVID PINGLETON?!?

I've never met nor heard of this guy/kid, have no clue what he did, or how I'm supposed to testify as a witness. I've never been to Forsyth County, but I'm already thinking they're more than a little backward. Too make things worse, the DA's office won't answer calls from my mom or myself...if you're willing to issue a warrant for me, wouldn't you jump on the chance to have contact with me, especially when I voluntarily contact you?!? Then again, if they are going to subpoena a kid who has nothing to do with the case to start with...I shouldn't expect too much.

Who knows, maybe the next post will come from a jail cell. I'm sure I could convince them to let me, seeing as their track record isn't the best.

Crack Popcorn: The Good Ol' Days

From back during the summer of 2007, with my good friend Kayde. Written in the heyday of a crazy summer, this letter was sent to about 15 of our friends, simply as a way of saying, "Hi, let's all hang out this weekend." Everyone thought we must have been lacing the popcorn we were eating with crack. Couldn't have been farther from the truth; just an afternoon spent making plans. Yet more proof that my life has been special for years now.

Enjoy...

One Day My Life Will Be Normal

My life is well...tumultuous. Its best described as a rollercoaster of unexpected events and out-turns that make it hard to prepare for and even harder to anticipate. Something is always hitting the fan, pissing someone off, making someone happy, keeping someone else just short of content. It is a myriadic quagmire of contradictions that even I hardly understand. My life is so full of surprises that it keeps me guessing. As stressful as it may sound, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Yeah, I could use less stress, more sleep, better food, more frequent work outs, a better school schedule, and a less dramatic family. But that would be...normal. Everyone these days is looking for these things, trying to make themselves fit the mainstream. Why bother? No matter how much I try to conform I'm ultimately going to be me. So why bother trying to conform to the perpetuated societal norm, mores, and ideals when I can just be me?

So yeah, life is stressful and I could be doing a lot of things better. But until my life starts becoming normal, well, I'm just going to keep living it up.