Essentials

I saw Holly Golightly and forgot to write about it. I bought Jock Jams and forgot to rave about it. I didn't throw up on New Years and didn't write to brag about it. I am going to be on the air soon with KGNU and haven't been blathering about it.
I have been busy everywhere except for this page. I could lie and say I'll update it more often, but I won't. I once joked about starting a Colorado Donut Blog and I think that would be more interesting. I know there is a coffee house one, and I can eat a donut with vengeance that only a diabetic can deliver. I'll quit with this blog and link to the future donut one. Now that will be interesting.
Thanks for reading.

The Shadows Of Power

This blog title is a book I am reading. I am reading it to help my decision in the upcoming election. (I am voting third party, by the way) I'll also look at the music that my candidates enjoy, or better, have sponsor their attempt for Presidency. Check out this Obama site. OK... Arcade Fire back him up. Neato, I guess. Now McCain went a different route. Laugh at the video; it is from a funny man.

Well, I did it. I played in front of a crowd. I spun three records and I got many congratulations and more heads bopped during my set. I got a bar crowd to move. I was DJ Terrence Lee. The bar is a dive. People did smoke in there. But... so what? I didn't care, it didn't bother me. I'm going to do it again: Nov. 1st.

And here is a comic I found on the web. I loved this comic growing up and rejoiced when I found something new. Thanks to Bill Watterson for ten years of smiles. (Click on it to see where I got it.)

Finally

About frippin' time, huh? I am employed and placing my life on a path forward, not lateral. I'm seeing someone, too! Yeah, me. I'm not just having care/responsible free sex with random women, no. I'm putting in the effort and time to understand this women's thoughts and ideas.

So with all this good ying,

I gotta take and get the yang

with my insulin pump breaking. I get a replacement in about five hours from UPS, but it was a strange night and afternoon without that tiny machine feeding me the juice I so need. I don't miss the hourly injections, no. I don't miss them, Mr. Lee I am.

Okay

I have this much money:

But, so what. I quit my job and have been feeling quite well about doing so. I have the same amount of kids as I do money, so it doesn't worry me too, too much. I'll be alright and I will bounce back for certain, but in the meantime, if you want to drive by and throw pennies directly at my face, I'll be smiling and accepting of what strikes my face.

If you want to cry, then hear this Verve song: Bitter Sweet Symphony or maybe this band that was Warsaw, that became Joy Division and now calls themselves New Order with their song Love Will Tear Us Apart.

Or just click your favorites button and go somewhere else.

T

April Fools

I finagled not being fired with dumb luck today. My trainer gave her two week notice, once again saving my hide from unemployment. What a doll she is. I feel guilty for littering her cubicle with 120 balloons, now. Classic on both ends: I luck out and I feel guilty for wrongdoing the being which provided the luck. A conundrum that is hording my sleep tonight.

I also made a complete and total ass of myself at the Rapids game on Saturday. Absolute, unbiased, without a doubt, ass! Gander at these photos.

Before

After

Now... Take and enjoy the finite expressions I display. In the former photo, I am cool-as-a- cucumber. My trophy of a just shotgunned Miller Lite held with assured and resounding confidence in my hand. The casual and slight lean suggest a demeanor that resonates a suave attitude accompanied with my dashing looks and perfect wind blown epidermis demand and gather respect. The latter photo burns all of that right to the ground, ablaze with no shortage of loser qualities. I love the crooked hand. Weak amd wimpy enough to bend with a serious attempt to ward off any masculinity. "That twelve ouncer' is going to kill me", my gimp wrist whimpers. I wish my pinkie would jut out. That would sanctify a self ass-whooping righteously deserved. The smile suggests no less than complete drool on any ones shoulder, car seat, bedspread, futon. I feel like Zelda from Pet Sematary (Below). She and I have pretty, pretty hair.

It's a Rainy Day, Sunshine Girl

My mind is wasted, wasted on a dream.

-Urge Overkill


It has come to my attention (my attention that is slow and quite shallow, correct) that I am the weird friend. I am unreliable and stupid, yes; alas, I yearn to create things of beauty and stories overwhelmed in rich lexicon and dynamic nuances that readers and critics strive. Truth told, I will luck out with a “nice try” and “do you have any stories that contain superheroes?” Ha.

I love it when things happen.

Thirty-Three

I'm thirty-three today, yippee. That's all I got to say. Happy Birthday to me. Bring the Gold by Brad Neely.