I had this other blog all lined up that I was writing at work a few days ago on MSWord that I had to email to myself (because people around the office are actually getting fired for accessing the internet now, which explains the length between my posts) , but I decided against posting it. I was in a mood that day and all I really did in it was cry about girls and how lonely I am. Fucking Christ, I hate when I get like that. I sound like a fucking tweener sitting around reading Twilight and listening to Taking Back Sunday. That's not to say that me being single my whole life, minus 4 months back in '96, isn't lonely as fuck and I'm not bothered by it more often than not, but whining about it isn't going to bring Zooey Deschanel knocking on my door. Although, she is marrying Ben Gibbard, so maybe it does.
Ben Gibbard with long hair gives me the fucking creeps.
Speaking of Zooey, she might be at the FMF right now as I type this. Brian is supposed to be interviewing her if she shows up. Our pal James looks a hell of a lot like Ben Gibbard and we were talking about pulling the ole' switcheroo on her. See if she takes the bait. Of course, James' girlfriend might not be too into the idea, but fuck her. Any girl that won't let her man hook up with Zooey Deschanel isn't worth the sheets she'll be sleeping alone in.
Here they are again, singing together. Fucking hell, why can't I have this?
Speaking of Brian now, he, I, and our buddy Jim (not to be confused with James) decided the other day that the past tense of Twitter should be Twatted. This grew from me coming up with the idea of doing an adult version of that idiot site (is it an actual website? I have no idea) and calling it"Twatter." Instead of updating people with every minuscule, pointless thing you do during the day, you only update it with your own sexual exploits. I'd love to start typing away right in mid-coitus. "Shawn is getting some rad head!" "Shawn just gave his first ATM!" How awesome would that be? Maybe not so much for me, truth be told. In reality, mine would probably be an endless stream of masturbation updates, while I sit around hating on all of my friends because they keep updating me about getting laid. Assholes. Anyway, in discussion we came to decide that "Twatted" would be a substantial past tense of "Twitter." For example:
"Are you Twittering?" "Me? No. I just Twatted a few minutes ago."Or "I Twatted my mom all night long."
God, please let this catch on.
Twitter is always better with a little pussy on it.
I've been sober for almost 2 weeks now. Man, what an eye-opener. I'm not going to get into details, but it isn't just the world that looks different through dry eyes, but I look different, too. I found that I've been bullshitting myself about a lot of things for the last couple of years. Alcohol will make you do that. It's so much easier to say "Fuck it" and drown yourself in a case of beer and force yourself to do things and like things you don't really like. I went to I Bar last night and didn't have one drink. Holy crap, that was a bad idea. I ended up leaving early and walking a couple of miles to my car (I didn't drive). I must have seen about 10 reasons why7 I should never know the taste of booze again. From the disgusting people leaning against my back while face-fucking each other to the girl I came across puking in the bushes on Livingston during my walk to this guy I know telling me I had to leave with him to help him fuck four hot girls (who really were hot, but the whole presentation and the 99% chance I'd contract Herpes made me get the hell out of there). I've also been jogging 4 miles every other day (soon to be 5), doing strength and abs workouts on the days I'm not running, and eating better. I'm doing a complete overhaul. It's about time I did. I'm so insanely sick of being 33, out of shape, and horrifyingly average. Now I'm slowly slimming up (it'll be a while before I'm at where I want to be), I'm full of more energy, I feel better about myself, and I wake up earlier in the mornings and get more done during the day. It's been pretty awesome. All I need now is a new pair of glasses and those tattoos I've been planning and I'll be set.
Yyyyyyep. That's about right. Run, fat boy, run.
However, I don't recommend morning running. I should have known it was a bad idea when I attempted to do my stretching and I couldn't even touch my toes because my muscles were so tight. I won't say the run was a total nightmare, but it wasn't easy.
That's about all for now. I'm off to the FMF to watch a documentary about Showbiz Pizza. Apparently, they're going to have the animotronic band that they used there. It'll be like I'm 8 again, as though my Peter Pan complex needs any boosting.
Well, this explains why I was constantly plagued by night terrors as a child.
