This is my jesus bluetooth device. There are many like them but this one is mine.
The first drink was a ice cold PBR served to me by a beautiful blonde covered in tattoos. Very down to earth too, not a bimbo, what you think when you think blonde.
She wore tight jeans and a shirt with the sides cut a little short so you can see her hips. Imagine what your hands would feel like on them. That’s why I’m wearing this shirt. I like smiling at you.
Should have asked her out. Need to relish in the rejection. Not lay my head down until I’ve been rejected by a minimum of 1 woman a day. I have no idea what my standing in the world is. I’m a 10 to some, a 5 to others but you really can’t tell until you query a result.
But I don’t. Moments lost that honestly you cannot really go back to. I have to get dedicated to it tho. Situps every morning. Rejection everyday.
Carol told me today that I have to work on my story for when I meet people. I’m too fucking depressing. She didn’t say it but she’s right. I have to work on my story. Immediately. Right now.
She honestly said she couldn’t help me until I figured out what I wanted to do with my life. How sad is it that I don’t know that now, fuck.
Woke up sunday after a week of sin which I hope does not come back to haunt me. I was laying on the couch contemplating the idea of rock bottom and how far I still really need to go when I heard a knock on the door.
It’s my neighbor’s daughter. She’s asking me for a beer for her dad. He’s down by the pool grilling. I walk down in my black robe and 2 tall boys of Becks, the last of the alcohol in my house.
I gave him the beer and sat and talked with him for a bit about what I had been up to Friday and Saturday. I go back upstairs and decide to drink the last beer. It made me feel a little better.
Earlier that morning I had woken up hungover and starving. The 2 tiny pieces of chicken I ate the night before the magnum of wine I drank with A was not really a sufficient dinner. Made a apple with peanut butter.
Later Peter’s kid brings me one of the hamburgers and says “you’ll need this later”.
I did, it was good.
Later I went to the gym and ran on the treadmill. Felt like I was dying the whole time. Afterwards I was faced with the option of going home and barely sleeping at all while sweating and tossing and turning. Or I could go get some wine and relax and sleep at a decent hour. Decided to sweat it out. It wasn’t the worst “1st night” I’ve had, have had much worse and much more scary. Tuesday was rough, Wednesday was terrible.
Today, Thursday, the craving was there immediately after the presentation . Went for a run instead.
I absolutely love this time of year. Party party party. It’s okay that no one wants to start any new projects. There are christmas parties.
I had my fucking party in august when there were no new projects and there were no parties. That should come for something.
Woke up at exactly 3am. It’s pretty much impossible for me to go back to sleep at this point in my life. Between the failing business, my absolutely terrible personal and social life and just the fact that I’m living in “this” make sit impossible to go back to sleep after waking up.
Since I’m fucking wired and any delay in a text message response is considered rude, I check my phone. Let’s also admit I’m checking it in hopes of something to kill a little bit of my loneliness but whatever. That’s a little bit of that optimism that shines for about 45 seconds before I start to remember what’s going on here.
I need to uninstall the okcupid app from all of my mobile devices. Waking up at 3am depressed and sad, feeling a weird glimmer of “oh?” when you see someone has visited your profile and messaged you. Reading about her kids. then reading “If u don’t believe in God, I don’t care to know u.”. Oh she lives in Kenner too.
NIN – Where is everybody.mp3
Fucking desolate wasteland of christian single moms. Not really how imagined my life in my 30′s. I’m going to keep this blog password protected to keep it real.
Reading more of her profile. It’s actually kinda hurting me how much this woman’s profile is fucking with my mind.
” I view those ppl as lost souls, some are dark souls. I sometimes feel we are between heaven and hell. On a path to get to one or the other. I know which path I’m on.”
Wow, I might actually copy and paste some of this for my profile. I am a dark soul, i am on the path to hell.
The best part about this is under the “what I’m doing with my life” there is this little gem. I don’t use the words “little gem” often but when you see “I’m here to find someone to relieve a little of my stress. Teach me to have fun again.” you pretty much have to imagine what I am? However, she says “I’m not here for a casual fling or sex. I don’t give myself away like most of today’s women. Shit can kill you.”
I’m going to put a link to this woman’s profile in my suicide note.
I even responded to her. I’m noting that here.
Maybe I need to turn my life over to god and start going to church. There is a small to medium chance I could meet someone at a happy hour or something but the tactical question of how even to do that is lost on me. Financial costs alone make it tough but I also have to remember I have pretty much no game anyway. Church has all kinds of pussy. Sure, we might have to lie a little about how I am a “dark soul and i’m on the path to hell” but what are a few lies between soulmates.
To be honest the “dark souls and a path to hell” stuff in her profile is kinda fascinating. I doubt she drinks but I’d love to get drunk and talk to her about life.
Portishead on pandora now, thanks.
Even ugliness looks beautiful next to you.
Just looked at my google calendar. This can be done, just have to make a few phone calls.
I feel a lot better for writing this right now.
Today was a pretty quality day, things done. Feelings had. Plans made.
Eric told me while I was in Memphis that he thought I was the happiest when I was working my gov contract. He said I had a purpose that my business never gave me. It actually made me really sad to hear it because it’s something I probably need to face. It’s time to put everything on auto pilot and do something else.
Hard to monetize depression. That would look cool on a trucker hat. Maybe I’m underestimating myself?
Alarm is going off in 6 hours…going to be tired. Tired of laying awake and feeling miserable.
Really soon, maybe as early as tomorrow, I need to re-write my entire okcupid profile then replicate it on a few other dating sites and start just spending 15 minutes a day on the challenge of getting someone to meet you from the internet. I don’t take it personally getting rejected online…hell, i even try to move my rejection situations towards the easier route of text messaging. Tell me we are just friends over the phone via text, then we can smile and be friends next time and forget about how I liked you.
The trick to feeling better about rejection is making it such a regular part of your life that you notice it missing and get upset and correct it. Also quit buying alcohol and bringing it home. Pushups every morning. Leg lifts too.
I need to hire the painters. I’ll drink less if I fix this.
I read this in a reddit thread the other day and can’t think of anything better to describe my life right now. The way I look at it, if I’m going to really go after women outside of my normal range then I’m going to face a lot of rejection. More then probably before because I’ve never tried this before.
Reflecting on it, I’ve always been a lazy fuck when it comes to pursuing women. It works but honestly this is a time vs numbers game and effort is going to be required. Embrace every crushing rejection with the cold fact that we all die alone anyway. Like Louis CK said, even if you do find that person you have to watch them die or die before them leaving them miserable?
Below is a facebook post about the focus group I took part in to make a little extra money. Not like I have anything else to do with my life, why not. I drank 2 margarita’s at juans. Next time I do this I’m bringing a flask and filling up the water bottle before it starts.
Speaking of facebook, from now on, you update here and then there. I’m so tired of the weird judgmental feelings i get from absolutely no one and feel so much better wasting my life writing here then on fucking social media.
Sitting in waiting room at the focus group and it’s pretty quiet, room full of strangers. I see opportunity and say “did anyone else think it was weird they took our blood first?”
I had about 8 out of the 10 people with a “wtf? no i didn’t have to give blood” before 2 women called me out and ruined it
Still bored, I begin to make small talk with the guy next to me. He seriously asks if I’ve accepted the Lord into my heart.
I’m actually very religious so I agreed with everything he said and even commented on the awesome power of his Jesus. For the next 10 minutes before the survey started.
There was a tiny percentage that he was a small business owner interviewing web designers, no regrets.
Anyway, I’m really tired right now. I didn’t sleep a lot last night and it was drunken pizza/beer sleep. I did wake up, work out and get to the office by a crazy 8:30am. It was a model monday and I have to continue the momentum to tomorrow.
I don’t want to go to sleep tho. I want to do something enjoyable. Still honestly feel like I’m on I-55. Screw it, might as well be well rested and miserable.
I am never driving myself down I-55 alone ever again. Megabus and enterprise rent a car when I get to Memphis from now on.
I did a amazing job at seeing almost all my old friends and but did miserable as a family member. Need to spend more time at parent’s house with parents instead of using it simply as a place to sleep in between drinking sessions with my old life.
To be honest, i seriously sometimes wonder if my old childhood home is now kinda ruined after being pretty much forced to move back there a few years ago after losing everything. I had some super deep introspective drinking wine in the dark time a few times this trip and I can’t not feel like that house can sometimes symbolize a complete lack of control of life. Ugh that’s depressing.
I cannot put into words how much I hate making that drive. Every single second of it. I’ve tried audiobooks which help but didn’t really have a chance to get any loaded on the phones. It doesn’t matter tho, it’s still 6 hours of fucking trucks blocking both lanes, driving through the nightmare state of Mississippi through holiday traffic. Megabus or amtrak, no more driving that. Next time i travel from new orleans to memphis i will have a fully charged laptop, headphones, alcohol and have the absolute time of my life traveling from one city to another instead of a introspective nightmare.
I seriously almost could feel the negative energy start to build up as I spent more time driving. Even if you are listening to a great audiobook while getting a blowjob you’re still fucking driving through mississippi. I just can’t do it anymore. It’s different if you have someone with you but it’s just long enough to be terrible.
I’m sure this just sounds like bitching but it’s really almost a mindset. Instead of spending basically the same amount of money on gas vs a rental car for a few days and a fun bus ride. You have to be a little careful in Memphis because the bus drops you off in a pretty shitty area but I could go into the bar nearby, order a beer, call a cab and be anywhere i need to be in a great happy mood.
Fuck, I forgot to buy bbq sauce. Okay on next trip.
Very excited about the beer bottling. Still need to add photos to previous post…moral of the story is update with photos in real time. Never know when it’s going to be your last update either.
I have been thinking a lot about the feeling of acceptance I’m trying to get with dying with nothing but a string of crying women. It all kinda started with Kelly and ended with Kendra. Just a series of REALLY bad mistakes. I sometimes wonder if it’s not a coincidence that this all happened while on wellbutrin. This whole stupid site is has always been about drugs and alcohol ruining my life but you have to wonder.
Time to wash off I-55 and try to get ready for the next scary few weeks.
I had so much fun yesterday that I drove to Brewstock and bought 2 ingredient kits. I figure if I’m going to recruit someone to bottle I might as well get whoever it will be to help with 2 buckets instead of wasting their time with one. At least that’s how I’m justifying it.
No coffee today, went to gym this morning and went for a good run. Last night I went out to my favorite restaurant with one of the most beautiful/interesting women I’ve ever met. It took me a long time to finally ask her out and I honestly wasn’t prepared for her to say yes. I shouldn’t have told her that. Women like guys with confidence. I read that on the Internet.
Damn, now I want coffee but it’s 1:47pm and I need to wake up early and try to get some shit done before the fucking drive to Memphis. It’s going to be good to see everyone. I need to plan it as well as possible to avoid missing anyone.
Anyway, so I put the thermometer in immediately when I started boiling so I don’t over boil the water like yesterday. Then I thought it would be hilarious to spill grain all over the stove and the floor since things were going really well so far. Water is almost hot enough to steep. It’s so much easier to have someone else to hold the bag while pouring in the grain. Too bad I don’t have a soul and think “women are just interchangeable objects to cum on”.
Just sitting alone, listening to obnoxious music making sub par beer. And spilling grain.
It’s okay tho. This will be a perfect thing to drink around Christmas. It will have aged and be perfect by about that time.
- 2 lb 2 row brewers malt
- 1 lb belgian special b
- 6 lb amber dry
- 1 oz of saaz at 60
- another at 15
- orange peel at 10
- ginger at 10
It’s so funny, the fucking recipe he gave me says Untitled Recipe. I was kinda stressed out by that and he said you get to name it whatever. Friend from facebook came up with the title, think it’s fitting. I used the last of my trade credit with the resturuant last night. I’m not going to name it because I don’t want this coming up in search results.
So someone on reddit said he used a strainer. I have something like that so I’m going to try that to day. Or I might make Peter help me. He just called in sick to work to drink beer and hang out. I am happy that he is adding to my bottle collection that crackhore brewing is going to start requiring on a monthly basis.
God the gym sucked this morning. I had 3 beers with Peter watching his kid kill people in a video game before I met her for dinner. I had a cocktail while waiting for her. Then we split a bottle of wine. Then we saw a homeless guy pee on a car on Carrolton. Fucking city is so broken. I sometimes question the sanity of anyone who lives and works here. I mean yeah it’s fun and everything but sometimes you just have to question it.
I’m honestly at a loss of what to do at this point…I texted her saying i had a good time, hope it was mutual. Leaving town for Thanksgiving either helps or hurts my odds with her spending anymore time with me. Guess we’ll find out.
Grain goes in, now we wait! I’m starting to see how I can get really efficient in brewing these extract kits. I’d love to go all grain but unless I win the lottery and can leave this place then this is what I’m doing.
It’s really strange to be sitting here without a shirt on at the end of November. 13 more minutes of grain steeping then we’re back to boiling. Preparing the bucket already because I am fucking on time. Spilling the grain was maybe a sign of good luck.
Washing buckets is fucking fun. I love that i have the exact amount of buckets needed to brew AND bottle 2 beers at a time. I’m still amazed I’m able to store everything. I paid a woman to do this and I seriously didn’t think she would be able to do it.
The first thing I’m doing when I get back is painting this place. Not that I’m bringing anyone here ever again anyway so part of me just says fuck it.
Grain out…managed to get some of it on the counter top. So fucking clumsy. I should have woke up, brewed the beer, THEN went for a run.
Fuck, Peter just called in sick and went and bought a shit ton of beer. I’m now drinking a can of Becks. It tastes so good.
Okay on 2nd beer and the brewing is going okay. I’m glad I did the majority if the things and stuff earlier.
Things have drastically fallen apart on this brew. I accidentally put my thermometer on the hot stove melting part of it. I might have pitched the yeast too early? I don’t know. One final photo of “yeah homebrewing is fun you should do it”.
This concludes this weekend of brewing and trying to meet and seduce. Tune in 14 days from now when we have to bottle all of this stuff and find out if it tastes good.
It’s not, it really sucks when you think about it. The day to day, in and out of bullshit that you do to just “pay rent” then you maybe get to “retire” towards the end of your life and that’s it. That’s the sum of your time on life. You have MAYBE met the love or your life or are somewhat happy but most of us only get a small glimpse or taste of what maybe happiness even maybe looks like. I’m talking in abstract forms. I don’t believe anyone is happy. I hate that I even typed that because people are happy. They are right now, just because you are drinking whiskey alone in your lakeview prison listening to dubstep doesn’t mean people are not cuddled up with loved ones feeling happiness and peace.
Fuck, whatever, it’s okay, good for them.
This post is about how good things are for me. I’m sitting in my kitchen nook, did i spell that right? fuck it.
My previous post describes my morning but i want to put down a few words about how much just a single meal with someone can change how I feel about life.
I’m not sure who is reading this or who will be read this but I want to lay it out without fucking with her life.
I have been very very fond of a woman. She is many of the “wants” on my list of “wants” for a life partner. I finally, after years and years of knowing her, ask her out. She agrees. Okay, just because she agrees doesn’t mean she wants to go, just agrees. I text her and we setup a time a place. I’m ecstatic. Everyone who is close to me in my personal life and business life know about this date. I have not felt nervous before a date, almost ever. I’ve dated around a little bit after Kendra but I’ve never swung for the fences as far as looks/personality goes.
Purple shirt that I feel sexy in, jeans that I feel I look good in, lets do this. I have a few beers with my asshole neighbor before I try to make myself as attractive as possible. Drive there, have a cocktail while I wait. She doesn’t stand me up, okay, step one, be attractive.
It is fucking surreal tho. I have felt almost absolutely nothing in a long time. The moment she agreed to have dinner with me I was like “oh shit okay” and have been trying to make myself mentally prepared for even doing this. Then today, we did this but the weird anxeity I had over having dinner with her melted away fast.
She walked to the restaurant and I drove her home trying to maybe seduce her into having a drink somewhere with me. I should have maybe asked if she wanted me to come in but she’s not that type of woman. I had suggested we get a drink somewhere after dinner but she had work in the morning and i understand that. Except I don’t work much in the mornings. I gave her a hug and didn’t try to kiss her.
Before I got to the car I was thinking about how this should end…the internet, which is made of up of fucking assholes and idiots, say you should try for a kiss on the first date to show your confidence or whatever alpha male bro shit. I didn’t, kinda regretting it now but I’m also totally unsure about every single action of my life anyway…
All and all, I’m happier then I have been in years. It was so surreal to sit across from such a beautiful woman and feel a connection like that. Ever second of eye contact was more intense then the last, really makes you look yourself in the mirror in the morning and say “stop letting life pass you by”.
I am so unsure on how to proceed with her…now we are getting into the “post date text game” posts…blah.
And so I tell myself that I’ll be strong
And dreaming when they’re gone
‘Cause they’re calling, calling, calling me home