Here I stand, 6 feet small.

So about all these different bands that I've been listening to, (take the Mayer lyrics as you want) It seems that even though music has become rather disappointing as a whole over the last few years, there are still a few bands that have something decent to say, that'll make you think just a little bit more than you normally would. At least they've done that for me. So Joey, Mike, Kelly, Steve, Jeffy, thanks for this next one.

All of the above mentioned names, as a bunch of guys with a band named The Reign of Kindo, indie jazz, not what you'd expect from the most depressed town in the world, but, it works. So even though their CD came out a couple months ago, and I've heard the whole process for the last year, it's still sticking with me, this line. " I live in a castle no one can come near. And every wall was layed with bricks of mortar and tear."

And that's it. I think I figured it out. My reason for just being everything I am.

I've set myself so far away from everything that I should be doing, by putting myself in that castle, made out of pain, and going through hard times. That's the mortar for the morons out there. Here's the kicker line in that song though. "With every word you speak my walls crumble in."

There's still that one thing for everyone. It makes you want to start again. I'm going above religion here by the way. I've done a pretty damn good job building myself that castle too, thank you very much. But, there's still those couple people around. Those people that with a single word, know that I'll do anything for them. Just those couple words, from those couple people, can either make me get up from a pit I thought was inescapable, or just put me right back down in it.

I don't have a problem trusting people, as much as giving everything I have, only to return with nothing. The roller coaster that I live just keeps going, and those few words, from those few people give me just a little bit of smooth ride every once in awhile, or, make me wonder when my cart is flying off the tracks.

So here I am 20 years old. And still going, because, honestly, I am scared as hell. I have no idea what is coming anymore. And hearing over and over "Everything happens for a reason" and "It will get better" just don't cut it anymore. I'm requiring just a tad bit more now, cause, everything else has just gotten stale.

Finally, a totally enjoyable night without worries.

So its been awhile, and since it's 630 in the morning, and I have nothing better to do, and I didn't even work tonight, I figured at least I'd do some of this.

Apparently I am God awful at beer pong.

Tonight was my first whole weekend day off in awhile, and so me and the day manager decided to have a party since, well, we never get to hang out. So, starting off at 9pm my night crew doesn't show up. Crackheads are somewhat unreliable in case you were wondering. After half an hour, they showed up and all the day crew could leave and go to a party with every one's favorite Steakout Belmont manager. Me. At midnight, Kevin, Alex and I were supposed to head to my place and have a fire and a few beers in the backyard. Well, Alex had to work all night, but Kevin was on his way down, so he came over as well. We're 1-2 in beer pong. As we ran out of cigarettes, we drove to the gas station and heard the band Heart on the radio. Automatically my sister pops into my head when ever I hear Heart, so I talked with her for a bit.

The story starts getting good here if you're still reading.

After our last loss, Kevin takes off, and the day manager and I convince our boss to stop by. He lives around the corner, so why not. Here is where I throw in that managers and employees at my job are NOT allowed to hang out, outside of work. We got them to play beer pong with us, that's right. A 40 year old man with a wife and kid played beer pong with me. And somehow won. I'm making the assumption that since I almost fell on top of the rather attractive girl that works across the street, at least 7 times, I was rather drunk.

So there you go. There is no moral, no point, nothing. It's just nice to know that as much as the place that I work at sometimes pisses me off, almost all of my friends are there. I've had to grow close to all of them, not only by necessity, but the fact that they never let me down, as long as they can help it. For some odd reason people are drawn to me, at least on the loyalty front. I need to figure out why that is and exploit it for all it's worth. Why the people that I am in charge of will jump at anything I say, and why they won't do it for anyone else, unless their job is threatened.

Damn. I guess I really can't write anything without trying to prove a point or make a statement. Anyways. Someone blueprint that why people are drawn to me thing so I can figure out how to make some money off of it. Thanks

People like you, make people like me, drink.

So awhile ago, I decided that I should make a list of all the things that I need to write about, but rarely have the time, at that specific moment to write about, because, I usually am doing something that is somewhat important. So as I paged through this list I found the title, "People like you, make people like me drink."

Most of these people are what my bosses like to call customers. I prefer; assholes, shit for brains, and princesses. That last one I'm quite fond of calling the "bad-ass" kids that come in, with their rice mobiles and their girl friends who at first glance are cute, but when they get closer, oh damn. Not even if I was drunk...

But the main point has nothing to do with most of these "customers" it's just people I'm around most of the time. On with the story

Sunday I played at church, don't mind the contradiction for now. And had to drive a couple of my friends out there, because they were playing music as well. Their dating relationship has been interesting to say the least. Well, from the sidelines for the last 2 or 3 years it has been. So service ends, and I'm attempting to leave. But these two had other plans. Like arguing. About what they were doing for the Bills game that day. Who's house they were going to, and other stuff they had to do. Fine. Just do it on the car ride home. Ha ha, yeah right. While I walked my tired ass out to the car they continued eating pastry in the office, and bickering there. Ten minutes passes and I'm still sitting in my car by myself waiting for these two happily disorganized/lovingly hateful people. They are that couple that you still can not understand why they're together. I've been trying to figure that out for years, literally.

Finally they get their shit together. And by shit, I mean they walked out to the car. 20 minutes later. By this point they have a maximum of 0% of their plans figured out for the day. Impressive. Damn impressive for people that should be able to tie their own shoes. But sometimes I wonder.

So ride home commences. They managed to have phone calls at the same time, and instead of being civil, they were, irrational. I can't call it fighting or arguing, because it simply wasn't. I don't know what to call it, other than just, plain, annoying. Especially when I was exhausted and was trying to listen to music.

Why? wouldn't you just freaking give up already? Do you love each other? Then stop bitching, at each other. Or at least do it when I'm not around. There are enough things pissing me off at any given time. I don't need more. Especially when I'm being the nice guy and driving your goofy asses out to play at a church. Bi-polar lovers/haters quarrels outside my presence/listening distance please, NOT IN MY DAMN CAR. Especially when my friend Mr. Daniels is hanging out in the back of my Jeep, doing nothing but calling my name because of these two children.

So I sat and thought to myself. This is why I do bad things. I don't like dealing with this junk all the time. I do it at work, and everywhere else. I thought my car was somewhat of a sanctuary for that. Guess not. It has recently been violated from the sanctity that was Anth's Jeep. Now it's just one more whine box with wheels.

People like that, make people like me drink.

The olympics

Sitting here after the Olympics are over, makes me kind of wish every day was like the Olympics. See, in the Olympics, there's no screwing around. There are no semi-finals or almost championships. You win an event, you are automatically crowned world champion for the next 4 years. I'm not one for a whole lot of competition, and I don't want my life to be like the Olympics in that way, per Se. What I would like, is to do something once, and be done with it for four years. Haircut? Back in 4 years. Oil change? another 4. Working? maybe once every two years. But hey, most Olympic athletes have sponsorships to do nothing but train for the 4 years in between their events. In this country at least, other countries, its the threat of death. But that's why Phelps doesn't actually look like a human, he looks like some kind of jacked up crack head. Cause, lets face it. Only people on drugs move that fast. And, they only move that fast to get more drugs. Chances are, someone put a couple rocks in the other end of the pool, and put Phelps in the pool 30 seconds after he started coming down. Maybe I should stop working at a job that has me around drug addicts all the time. Then, I probably wouldn't be calling this dude, who everyone else has named a national hero, a crack head. It's not like the dude cured AIDS. Sorry thats a little out dated. He didn't cure cancer. He swims fast. Congrats slugger! You can swim!

24 hours of work, in 26 hours

I just finished what may have been the worst jokes played on me ever. I'm calling it a joke, because that way, I'll be able to sleep tonight.

I've been trying to switch to day shift ever since all the drunk customers decided that my car was prime pissing area. That was almost 4 months ago. Finally, I've started picking up some day shifts. I closed last night (6A.M.) and was supposed to work 3P.M. until 9P.M. tonight. Haha. Good joke.

The day manager strolls, scratch that. Hobbles in last night. With a doctors note.. And can't work his shift from open til 9 when I was supposed to come in... Who is the only person able to cover this? Me. So lets get a time line rolling, shall we?
7p.m arrive at work
10p.m. recieve "My leg is busted yo!" talk with day manager
11p.m. Call boss, get a 12 hour shift delegated to myself.
12p.m. Start looking for booze
1a.m. no booze. Damn
5:30a.m Close store, take a leak, re-arrange the back seats of the Jeep so I can sleep in the parking lot so I am not late the next day/two hours from current time.
7:45a.m. knock, knock. "Wake up pumpkin!" The last person in the world that you'd want to hear that from, my boss, is saying this, peeking his goofy sunglasses adorned head in my car. I thought I messed myself. Then he dissapears. I crash again.
8:55a.m. Alarm. Go inside. Clock in. Start paperwork.
10:30a.m. Store opens. I go for coffee.
12:00p.m. Booze. Jim Beam to save the day. I have introduced old company ways to new employees. Impossible task34 finished.
2:00p.m. Try to stand up from chair in office after half a bottle of J.B.
2:15p.m. Actually get out of chair, start cooking.
5:00p.m. Headache. Pretty bad. Crappy radio station not making it any better.
9:00p.m. my assistant manager walks in. I walk out
9:12p.m. Get home. Go to sleep.
11:42p.m. Get rudely woken up by some phone call.

Currently it's almost midnight, and now I'm wide awake and 100%tired at the same time. Un-explainable. Kinda. Maybe thats the hangover talking.