Century Mark

Welcome, today I invite you here to help me celebrate a very special occasion: On Wednesday I reached my 100th post (it only took four plus years and nearly half of them were from this year). Regardless of how long it took I feel like I accomplished something so let me take a minute and make it virtually rain

Now don’t go and count because it will show this one as being the 100th because I had to revert my most read post ‘Finding Happiness’ back to a draft due to some slight and humorous legal issues. It shall stay in blog purgatory forever.

When I first started this blog while sitting in a bench at Montclair State University (a place I spent most of my time people watching and reading) I had no idea what I was doing with it. It didn't have a direction or a goal. In fact it still is pretty much a clusterfuck of random thoughts. I still don't know what the purpose of it all is, but it gives me a place to display my work while trying to hone my skill. I like to think I made some progress in that aspect, but I am no where near where I would like to be.

My first post was a rough around the edges rant about opinions. It really set the tone for the rest of my blog. It provided my voice and let you guys know that I have no fucking clue how to maintain one of these.  I really still don’t. I have no clue what the purpose or goal of my blog is, but hey you read it and I keep writing things. It helped me focus on finishing stories, allowed me a place to discuss movies, turn my repressed emotions into poetry, and let you guys enjoy my work. One thing I should bring back is my ‘Bro-Codeology’ series (though I don’t know if two posts nearly four years ago count as a series).

My posts the first few years were sporadic and really didn’t show how much I worked on my craft. It wasn’t until recently that I churned out more posts and more non posted things. This year I really put my pen to the paper and worked hard on my craft with a lot of support from my close friends and I want to take this moment to thank you for your support.

First to my siblings, though I'm pretty sure Andrew is the only one who actually reads this shit, but thanks to all three of you regardless for your love and support in life not just with my writing. I know you guys will always be there if I need anything. I may never ever tell you what's in my mind or talk to you about anything but knowing that I can is enough.

I want to thank Christina for being my on call editor and fantastic Amiga. I know you may not read everything on here but I also know if I want to send anything to get published you will be more than happy to edit it and assist me improving my work. I'm sad you will be moving a far distance away but I'll do my best to make frequent trips down for sushi.

While I'm on the Bosco's: Lauren my poems aren't about you!!!! But thank you for reading them and giving me feedback. It is appreciated. If you want to know who some of the poems are about you can text me and I will be more than happy not to tell you, but feel free to ask.

This year like is mentioned above has been my highest volume not just of what has been posted on here but also in terms of my writing in general and I owe some of that to my good friend Alexis. You may not know nor care but you were a big motivator for me. You were always there to critique or praise my stuff and that is beyond helpful. I needed the extra push and you provided it for me. A simple thanks would not suffice, so I’ll buy you a beer. You da best!

I cant move on without thanking my friend Yesabel as well. You are the one that had me start this thing, you told me I had talent, but needed a place to hone it. So this blog is kind of your idea, not really but sort of.

I’m sure I missed people, but thank you to all of you who support me and continue to read and push me.

Now that i am done thanking people I really want to talk about myself for a little bit. I feel like I don’t do that enough.

I want to thank myself for working harder this year. Just keep working and it will eventually pay off somehow. You need to stop doubting yourself (I am talking to myself here so just bare with me) you have a gift and need to utilize it. But besides that congrats on 100 I guess it is some sort of accomplishment. . . .SYKE. You just posted 100 random piles of garbage get over yourself you fucking nerd!

Wow, you don’t need to be a dick head. Fuck you guy. I don't need your bad vibes in my life right now I have enough shit going on. Jeeeezzz.

Anyway, I hope assholes opinion isn't the majority. Let us toast (go pour a drink and toast with me) to many more posts and hopefully one day you guys will be able to actually buy a book or something of mine to stabilize your kitchen table, or if you get ambitious enough you can read it.

Thanks again everyone!

Now someone give me a god damn trophy!

All

A phone call,

a subtle kiss

with soft lips;

We have it all.

A hand for when I fall

you made it better with a kiss.

Until the word ‘over’ left your lips

we had it all.

I awake to a cat’s claw

realizing I dreamt that kiss

and never felt your lips.

We never had it all.

If I can ever make that call

and give you a subtle kiss

tasting your soft lips

we can have it all.

One day you’ll get my call,

but until then I’ll dream of it all.

Insomnia: A Conversation With Myself

Those of you know me know that I have the worst time sleeping and nothing seems to aide in me getting a good night’s rest. In fact I would not be able to tell you the last time I got 7 or 8 hours of straight sleep without waking up in the middle of the night.

“Dan, that happens to a lot of folks, just go back to sleep!”

I wish it was that simple pretend reader asking me pretend questions. It is this time when my brain starts talking to me. The following is a true transcript between myself and myself during one of these times:

“I really should finish Slothcano.”

“You think so? It’s not that good.”

“Its pretty good, I think it’s funny. It is still in the first draft so I can improve it.”

“You should really decided how to get to the end of that story your working on.”

“I have the ending already the main character is going to [content removed] and the he will [content removed].”

“You should really ask [content removed] out one day.”

“Nah, that isn’t worth it. It wouldn’t work out.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah what’s the point? Oh Hi samba!”

“How’s it going kitty. Let me bother you for a moment.”

“Cats are better than dogs.”

“Yeah dogs always have a weird smell and are annoying.”

“She is attractive though, you should just do it.”

“Whatever. I need a new job, I hate being poor.”

“Yeah you can’t work there anymore your starting to snap.”

“I’m talking to myself.”

“I really should send more stuff to get published.”

“I should check my phone, maybe jam out or something.”

“It’s 2 am I should sleep.”

“I need to do laundry.”

“You should have done it tonight while you were doing nothing.”

“The Third Man is such a brilliant film, I had to watch it.”

“And Jake Busey on Justified? He is just a crazy as his father.”

“I wonder how it’s going to end. Sam Elliot is going to get his head blown off.”

“I have to send this RSVP for Danny and Ali’s wedding.”

“Can I get a date before the wedding or should I just put only one attending?”

“I don’t get why people give me options.”

“What should I make for dinner tomorrow?”

“MMMM, Sausage stuff.”

“I have to wash my sweatpants before going out.”

“I should go to Sublime on Saturday and have a beer alone.”

“Nah, pizza hut and beer and work on part three of the story.”

“That still needs a title.”

“Simba you are so warm. You’re such a good kitty.

“All cats love me, it’s weird.”

“People hate you, cats love you. Sounds like a solid future.”

“What the hell am I doing with my life?”

“Why did you even go to school?”

“I became a better writer.”

“You’re not that good, it’s probably not going to get you anywhere in life.”

“Alexis, Christina, and Andrew seem to believe in my talent.”

“It won’t get you anywhere.”

“You’re probably right. I need a new job.”

“I’m so hungry. I need food.”

“I need to sleep. I’m going to place my head between my two pillows maybe that will help me sleep.”

“You should get up early tomorrow to write.”

“I really should get my hockey skates sharpened.”

“She doesn’t even like you.”

“I know that.”

“I really wish I could afford stuff.”

“Stupid loans.”

“Why do I work with such idiots?”

“It’s like a carnival in that place.”

“I don’t belong in offices I’m too politically incorrect.”

“I can’t believe Jon Stewart is leaving the Daily Show.”

“I should have my own tv show.”

“Radio is probably better for someone of your looks.”

“I have a good voice.”

“It would have to be satellite radio because you make dead baby jokes and things.”

“I really want sausage stuff.”

“Make it tomorrow. I really should get ordained and marry Steph and Shaun. That would be fantastic.”

“Definitely put down just one for Danny’s wedding. You won’t find a date before the wedding.”

“I’m going to get wasted. I never get wild.”

“I’m sleeping now.”

“Now who am I going to talk with? Simba?”

“………”

“Ok maybe I can sleep.”

Throwback Thursday- Avoiding Dysentery

I was going to write the most inspirational blog post ever written I was going to change all of your lives forever. I was going to talk to you about major strides in my life and guide you into doing the same. This was going to be as big as the Camp David Accords. Bigger than the fall of the USSR. More important than the polio vaccine.

THIS WAS GOING TO BE BIG!

Then this happened. . .

I found The Oregon Trail. You remember the times in elementary school where you didn't work, but instead you stared at the screen and tried to make it to Oregon City without dying of dysentery: it was a grueling trip, yes it may have had some sort of educational value, but we knew it as the greatest time of the school year. 

I found it in the midst of changing the world and said fuck it and distracted myself into an adventure.

Since My roommates were floating around and I was showing them my great discovery I let them join me in the trip on The Oregon Trail. So, I, the leader, Jess, Shaun, Steph, and our trusty servant, Jeffery- a former prince from England whom we kidnapped back east, started our journey.

It was going well I hunted, to keep out bellies full to keep illness away while we rushed the trail at Grueling pace. I shot deer, bison, bear, rabbits, and whatever the hell the tiny fast brown thing was. A squirrel? I was a true wagon leader. We were all in good health. When Jess broke her leg we took a few days to rest. We were well on our way westward where I had a cushy job lined up running a general store. Shaun was going to head out and mine for gold. While Steph and Jess were all set for the best job a woman could have: working in a brothel. 

We had a slight accident when the fire Jess made to make some of her people's knishes got out of hand and tore through the wagon. Luckily no one was hurt: Jeffery the Englishman suffered several burns which made his fair British skin swell up and puss for most of the rest of the trip. He kept saying something about infections, but we didn't know we weren't doctors. 

But then it got bad. First, some no good Indian came out and stole my oxen. I knew it was an Indian because I saw him. I didn't stop him because he sent his Wife or daughter or Native American whore to distract me. It worked I've always been partial to a woman with color.

After the night where we lost an ox, I did what any man would do in that situation: I went out and killed a fucking bear or some other living creature. It made me feel superior. Then we were back on the road again.

 We cruised until it got worse:

Not being the carpenter from Ohio I wasn't able to fix the wagon tongue. And considering this wasn't the first time this happened I was out of extras. We were stuck until someone wanted to trade a tongue for some food. With the wagon tongue repaired we were on our way again.

Then we got to The Dalles, which is so close to the finish. At this part of the trail I had to navigate a raft which my wagon was on through a river full of rocks. Let's just say I was distracted by real life hit a rock and. . . well. . . I was in the wagon all alone.

Which is fine, I was going to kill them and eat their corpses anyway. Don't judge. Food is scarce out on the Oregon Trail and you must do what you have to do to survive.

Then. . . . BAM another rock and I drown like the rest of my wagon party.

Thus ended this adventure. I will keep on playing because I am a child of the 90s and this is one of my fondest memories. Try your own adventure and don't get the killer shits and become another victim of The Oregon Trail.

Going to Get the Paper

I close the door of my maroon Chevy Cavalier, my heart starts to race as the knife in my pocket hits my thigh. The winter wind starts to gush; I shiver and zip up my white hooded sweatshirt. I walk toward the store and I hear my name being shouted; I ignore it and stay the course. I walk in the Quick Check, purchase the thick Sunday paper, tuck it under my arm and head back out into the bright sun.

I once again hear my name accompanied by a slew of profanity; I take a deep breath keeping my head straight forward trying to pay the overweight Neanderthal no mind. I take another step, turning my head down as I walk past the group of morons hanging out in the parking lot of a store, because that is what cool people do apparently. The sidewalk was speckled with old chewing gum, most likely spat out by other groups of rad cats who made the strip mall their lounge, amongst the array of gum I see a foot step in my sight line, a black skate shoe; I knew I was stuck.

I look up and his face is nearly nose to nose with mine, his stench penetrates my nose canal, it’s the typical douche bag smell: a combination of body odor, a whole bottle of cheap cologne and lack of self worth. I take it in for a moment

“Move asshole,” I blurt out.

“We can do this right now if you want, pussy." He replies, I didn't even know the kid knew that many words; 10 is a lot for someone who still hasn't reached the peak of human evolution. I assume he still lives in a cave and kills his food with a big stick. I look around; not seeing any saber tooth tigers I assume I'm the one he is grunting at.

“Fine,” I say in a fit of rage, I don't want to fight him he is quite a bit larger than I, but what choice do I have? So, we engage in fisticuffs.

He throws a quick right hand in my direction; I duck and slam a hard right into his kidney region, then a quick left at his jaw. Knowing he is on his way to a loss he knees me in the stomach and tackles me to the ground, using his probably more than 40 pounds to his advantage. He sits on me like a chair at McDonald's and starts pounding my head against the ground; probably with the same ferocity he pounds down Big Mac's and shamrock shakes. I struggle to get him off of me, but with the adrenaline pumping I don't feel a thing, though it couldn't hide his fowl stink.

Finally, after another slams against the hard concrete I toss him off of me,  and I spring to my feet, I black out with rage. Without thinking about what I am doing I reach into my pocket and pull out the knife and with a quick lick of the wrist the blade is exposed. I stand shaking with anger, the sub human steps back and I say something, I’m not sure what is coming out of my mouth; I'm pretty sure it is just a slew of obscenities. Anger makes me sound as ignorant as the man I'm threatening.

I pick the newspaper off the ground and walk to my car; I tune out the grunting behind me. I take sit on the driver’s seat, finally I return to reality and I realize what I just did. I panic.

I drive home and park in the driveway. I pull out my cell phone, flipping it open I make a call to my girlfriend, who is out of town and can't help me, but I need to talk to someone. As I explain what had just happened, a police car pulls down the road and another one approaches from the other direction.

“I got to go babe, I think I'm getting arrested now. I love you.” I close the phone, step out of the car and begin walk toward the police woman. She pulls her gun from the holster and points it in my direction, my heart beats faster,

“Put your hands up, now!”

I comply. As she puts the cuffs on my wrists my mind races in a maze trying to figure out what is going to happen to me: trying to figure out what I just did to my future.