Stop Reading My Thoughts Or I'll Eat Your Face

Moving

p0rkch0pp — Sun, 24 Oct 2010 19:19:36 +0000

I grew up just a mile or so from where I sit. All my summers were spent roaming these valleys. The women about town with their kids and their careers, used to be the girls I chased around with my dick. This is my home. This is where I come from.

Soon it will all be a memory. The family and I have put our house up for sale and are moving out of state. I’m not sad, even a little. I have no delusions of home being where the heart is. I won’t miss it. To me moving away is just a thing we sometimes do. Hopefully I’ll be doing it sometime soon.

Truthfully, I can’t wait to poop into a sewer. How rad is that? Just poop and it magically goes away. Very 21st century.

Sometimes

p0rkch0pp — Sun, 31 Jan 2010 08:05:03 +0000

Sometimes I think too long and start to worry that I have forgotten how to be me. Sometimes I wonder why I still do some of the things that I do. Sometimes I miss the person I used to be. Sometimes fear and loathing seep into my vision of the future. Sometimes.

There are other times though. Times that my swagger can’t be controlled. Times that I feel powerful and wise. Times that are happy. The best times are short, barely a second. Glimpses of my bride in the faces of my daughters. Stolen kisses and secret glances. Those times are nice. Yeah.

Short Description Of A Bad Night.

p0rkch0pp — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 18:30:05 +0000

My reptilian brain was telling me not to trust the more developed regions. I was unable to heed this warning. I closed my eyes. It took mere moments to fall asleep and only moments more to regret doing so. Nightmares began circling like a lioness desperate to feed her cubs. Waiting for a stray fear to reveal itself as weak and vulnerable. Then the strike. Lucidity only intensified the horror of what I experienced. My children ripping at my flesh with mutilated claw-like hands. Their mother urging them on like a heavily indebted hill billy at a cock fight. Once there was too little of me left to pull at, a warm, almost comforting sensation washed over my being, lulling me into acceptance of my fate. Then, just as the part of my conscience still tethered to reality was beginning to triumph I sank rapidly back into madness. My eyes opened just before I drowned in my own blood.

Relief was short lived however. I was completely unable to move. I was alert and wanted so badly to remove myself from the bed (tomb). I could not. Claustrophobic and soaked in perspiration, I began to cry out for help. No one could hear. I could not hear myself. The hours following were filled with doubt and humiliation. Could this have actually happened to me? Why was this episode so much my intense and terrifying than the others? I wrote down what I could, showered and tried again to sleep. I could not.

*significant portions of my late night notes were omitted. i want to get it out, but am not ready yet.

Dotty

p0rkch0pp — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 17:14:14 +0000

What makes diner waitresses so alluring? If I were to see these women on the street I wouldn’t even notice them, but stick them behind a counter and they become trashy goddesses. I can’t help it. There is something sexually stimulating about a big ass and a bottle of Tabasco sauce.

Just a few weeks ago my hot wife and I sat in a local greasy spoon for breakfast. I was disappointed by our waitress. She was young and pretty and good at her job, but there was something wrong. She wasn’t “dinery” enough. The other waitresses all had names like “Flo” or super outdated hair. Ours was so normal. I could hardly enjoy my burger.Yes, I had a burger for breakfast. Get over it.

We had a meal out again just yesterday and there she was. The quintessential diner waitress. I saw her right away and was nearly heart broken when it looked like she wasn’t going to be ours. She was though. My only regret is that I had no camera, you really need to see this girl to believe it. It was almost as if the were dressed as a diner waitress for Halloween, but this was the real deal. She had two toned hair, platinum blond on top and a dark, almost smokey under coat. Like a sexy skunk. She wore this masterpiece up in some sort of funky bouffant just like a cartoon character. She had on too much make-up and ridiculously out of place earrings. I may still be blushing.

Her name was Danielle, but the Mrs. renamed her Dotty to fit her persona. Dotty was young, too young. She must come from diner folk, it’s the only explanation for her mastery of it all. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. There was a point where I began to wonder if this wasn’t just some cruel illusion. She didn’t seem to have the moxie to go with her look, but then I saw how she handled a grumpy old man whose toast arrived too late. He bitched and said he didn’t want it, she tossed it on the table and walked away. That’s when I knew for sure that I had found the one. I only hope that she doesn’t go and fuck this all up for me by graduating college or running off with a fry cook. I want to see her again. Food really does taste better when it’s served by a girl who doesn’t seem to fit anywhere else. God bless you Dotty and your big ol’ ass.

Sandwich Shop Blues

p0rkch0pp — Fri, 02 Oct 2009 02:33:54 +0000

The big national sandwich chains can eat a cock. Quizno’s is just plain fucked up and isn’t worth a dime. Toasted and sub do not belong in the same sentence. Subway hires morons who fuck everything up every time. Togo’s used to actually be okay, but I was in one recently and thought I was in a Subway. The #16 (the Italian) always came on an Italian roll, now they are asking me to choose from a selection of Subway-eque squishy shit bread. What the fuck? I can see why a fast food burger would suck compared to a real one, but a sandwich is easy. They have all of the ingredients (except the bread) right, so why do they fuck it up so badly? It’s a lack of passion and the trend toward offering too many choices.

Sure, if someone wants too alter an existing sandwich to meet their quirks I am down with it, but leave every choice to the consumer? The reason people go out to eat is to be served, not to do it themselves. I have been ordering the same sandwich from Subway for years and every fucking time I go through the same shit. I say “I’ll have a BMT on wheat, with American cheese and everything. Make sure you put both kinds of peppers on it. Thanks.” Then the bitch behind the counter asks me what kind of bread I want, what kind of cheese and I have too nod furiously as she asks me about S&P, oil & vinegar and so on. I fucking hate that shit.

Of course I could just go to a real deli where they will get it right, except they hardly exist anymore and the cost has become ridiculous. Fuck ‘em, I’ll do it myself.

Back To School Night

p0rkch0pp — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 08:35:23 +0000

Thursday evening was our daughter’s back to school night. She is in the second grade and has been attending the same school since her first day of kindergarten. It’s always the same lame shit. Everybody has to sit through a little presentation given by the principal and the PTA. This was the worst, least informative and most boring ass kissing session I have ever witnessed. The principal does all the blabbering and the assistant principal tries to remember enough of what she said to translate it into Spanish. It seems like they would follow the same bullet points instead of trying to reiterate verbatim what was clearly an ad-lib performance. It was very slow and difficult to give a fuck about.

All of the teachers were introduced, stood awkwardly and waited for the others to be named before sitting again. The first time I sat through this crap I clapped along because it seemed rude not to, but I have begun to reserve my politeness for the end like a normal person. That shit was just unbearable. They mentioned the janitor (who wasn’t there) and everyone started clapping like retards. These goofy assholes clapped for the English bits and then clapped again for the Spanish bits. I was ready to bail and hit the classrooms before that bitch opened her mouth.

Once the misery in the cafeteria was over it was time to visit Hailey’s classroom and meet her teacher again. She was really nice and pretty in that hippie Santa Cruz surfer girl kind of way. She came across as very smart and capable. I like her much more than the shrew who “taught” first grade. Somebody should seriously snatch that cunt’s “World’s Best Teacher” mug and defile her with it (off the point, but worth saying). Anyway, we came into a very neat and bright space that looks like a wonderful place to be a second grader. We scanned the room for Hailey’s desk, we poked through her shit and we sat down to gain her perspective. Her desk was very tidy and that made her mom smile. I sat across from my wife in a little chair and listened to a well thought out, brief and all together very pleasant presentation. It really is too bad that there were so few of us to see her. Only four other parents came and most of them were late. I felt a little sad about it.

After the teacher’s presentation and a few questions we got up to explore the room and noticed right away that our kid is a fucking genius. She acts like an absolute spaz case sometimes and confuses the hell out of me, but apparently she is a bright , well adjusted little kid. We find this to be good news indeed. I like that I see her name and influence all over the room there. Some kids are like ghosts.

There wasn’t much time to talk to the teacher because she was improvising her pitch to the late arrivals. The hot wife signed up for all the trips and volunteer stuff and I ate chocolate chip cookies while we waited our turn. Our turn didn’t come fast enough so we bailed. According to the walls in there Hailey is doing very well. She is student of the week , she is a star speller and her homework chart is full of stars. Plus we have Mrs. Whatsherface’s email address and one of us is at the school every day. So I think we are covered access wise. It seems like it’s going to be a good year despite principal’s lack of principal-ish-ness or whatever. Something is wrong with that woman. It’s always so hard for me when a person I am supposed to respect and trust is a redundant twat.

Over all it went well. We learned some stuff and got a cookie. We found parking (which is AMAZING) and nobody hit us up for money. The girls were all ready for bed when we got home and I don’t feel a screwed as I have in the past. In my book, that is a win.

In The Kitchen

p0rkch0pp — Sun, 20 Sep 2009 23:38:19 +0000

There was a time when being in the kitchen was a treat for me. I would spend hours doing things just the way I wanted them. Four course dinners all made from scratch. I’d make my sauces from homemade stock that was prepared just for that meal. Driving way out of my way to get one ingredient was just par for the course. Those days are gone for now. I have too many kids and not enough time or money to continue that way. One day it will be fun again.

I have been in something of a rut lately. Seven dinners a week on top of laundry and homework has been my routine for a long time. It has become quite tedious. I still enjoy cooking, I just don’t get anything more from it than a meal for my family. Cooking always added much more to my life. It relaxed me, gave me a creative outlet and made me feel useful. Now it’s just another chore.

I have tried other hobbies. Writing in this blog is the only thing I have been able to find the time for though. I really want to cook for fun again and can’t wait to have that back. Kite surfing and origami just aren’t me. I like butchering meat and straining sauces. When will it be fun again? Perhaps after the kids have grown I’ll find my way. Time will tell I suppose. Maybe if I figure out a way to share the kitchen with my family I can make cooking pleasurable once more. I doubt that I can pull off such a feat though, I’m like a Nazi when I’m in the kitchen. I will make dinner tonight and tomorrow and the night after that without complaint. It’s my job. That is all I have to say about that.

P.S. I really want a pork chop tattoo on my neck. Someone make that happen. Thanks.

My Baby

p0rkch0pp — Fri, 18 Sep 2009 23:51:07 +0000

This sexy lady started life with almost no chance of thriving. A neighbor brought her to me as a seedling in a 5 gallon planter of shitty soil. I didn’t bother transplanting or any other measures to save what was sure to be a trash plant. Well after she showed her sexy bits and I was sure she was a true lady I regretted that decision. I did the best with what I had and am now just a couple of weeks from a small but Well formed crop. The best part of having her is that I can cure her buds to my liking. I’m looking at about 3/4 of an ounce for free. I am pleased.

It’s Our Anniversary

p0rkch0pp — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 00:04:41 +0000

My wife is sometimes mean. She has been known to get antsy during a nice dinner out. There are a lot of things she won’t eat. She drives too fast and doesn’t always use her turn signal. We have never fully agreed on what constitutes a good movie. Keeping her on task takes patients and determination. Not many of the books I’ve given her have been read. A forty dollar lunch will be ruined if her iced tea goes dry. These are her traits that drive me absolutely crazy. It’s taken eight years to realize the amount of crap I have to put up with to love her, but it was worth it.

Without her bad side I would not have the benefit of her good side. Our daughters all have her smile. She has taught me about the importance of family (even the oddball cousins and cranky aunts that I really don’t like). I never knew how much fun bathing a dog could be before I met her. She loves me for who I am and doesn’t care that I am a goofy s.o.b. Our life together has been filled with the typical ups and downs, but we have only grown closer. I love her everyday but only after looking back at the last 2920 days do I understand how much.

With my arms spread wide like an old man telling a fishing story, I tell her that “I love you this much”. I am looking forward to many more years to come.

I love this picture because you can tell she's about tyo cry and that her brides maids are totally jealous

Food Porn

p0rkch0pp — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 23:12:30 +0000