4 posts tagged “on”

Beef & Cheese

Steak

Grill

Steak Knife

Barbeque Sauce

Tobasco Sauce

A-1

Beer

Meat

Burger

Brats (braaahhhhts)

Chili

Beans

Chili Cheese (whether it be on a hotdog or a burrito it is manly)

Jerky

Ketchup

Chops/Porkchops

Bacon

Fried

NOT SKILLET UNLESS USED IN SUCH A PHRASE AS THIS:  This is my skillet where my WIFE fries things, and then I HIT her with it!

Nachos

Pizza  ...   Speaking of which, we're about to go get some.  (Is that what she said?)

It's 10pm and I should probably go to sleep.

There's a chicken chalupa on the other side of the wall that's been trying to sweet-talk me for hours.

My mom won't heat the room I've been in all day, because she says she can't afford it.

Even though gramma just bought a heater that uses just ten cents worth of electricity per day when run all day.

On top of the fact that gramma is also now paying her hundreds in rent per month.

And she's been getting $25 per week from me.

I'm going to the dealership (hahaha!) with Cameron tomorrow to buy a sewing machine.

Then to his long lost (thanks to his mother) sister's house for a visit.

I really shouldn't eat that taco.

I shouldn't eat anything at all this close to bed.

It probably tastes like shit after sitting for so long anyways.

I haven't seen Niki in ages.

She never even tried to get a hold of me when she got back in town.

Actually, she never tries to get a hold of me.  I always end up seeking her out.

I think my stomach wants to growl.

I ran out of healthy food.  Basically.

I have two carrots and a lemon.  And a chalupa.  Fuck.

I'm not going to like weekdays at work without Debbie.

Fridays and Saturdays are the only time the other girls are there when I am.

I'll get so lonely.

They better hire me a friend.

I'm tired.  I'm going to bed.  Hopefully the taco won't catch me on my way there.

Saturday, May 10th

3am

I hate that my enemies are so accessible.  I want to be able to just forget about them.  The problem is, we had friends in common.  So now, when I go to some of my friends' profiles she's just staring at me from the Top 8 box, grinning.  Letting me know that I still haven't escaped her. 

At least she's last in the box, and I'm ahead of her.  But my picture is right next to hers.  But it's just a picture of blueberries in the shape of a smile, so I guess that's okay for now.

Anyway, once I saw her staring at me, I had to look at her profile.  I couldn't resist.  I had to check up on her.  I kept hoping I'd find out something awful happened to her, that she finally got what she deserved after what she did to me.

What I found out was:

• She has friends.
• She hasn't gotten fat.
• She's still with Creepy Paul, which could be good or bad depending on how you look at it.  (He's a really ugly manwhore.)
• She's going to be a nurse, which fits her fucking PERFECTLY.  (Dumb slut who just wants money, but can't commit enough to become a doctor, and would rather just sleep with them.)
• She hasn't died or come down with some horrible disease.
• She still has really bad acne and nasty teeth.
• She still writes.

I'm not satisfied.

"It's funny... I'm losing friends I wish were alive, and you're finding enemies you wish were dead."  --Cameron

I love you, Cameron.  You're the boy who saved my life, and the man who made it worth living.

Wednesday, April 30th

1am

People tend to find their flock.  When you're going through rough times, you can end up relating best to people in similar situations.  Sometimes that works out.  You can help each other through the hardships, be each others' crutch and shoulder to cry on.  But sometimes, when you care a lot, you just hide it.  After all, they have their own unbearable problems to deal with, right?  Wouldn't want to burden them even more.  That's when it doesn't work out.  At all.

But how do you find the limit?  There has to be a line of some sort, separating what you should and shouldn't talk about.  Can you estimate another person's breaking point?  What if you're both on the edge?  If you can't deal with something on your own, isn't it okay to have someone who you know cares about you help?  What brings on that feeling of guilt?  That hesitant pause before sending the call?  The sudden drop when you hear laughter on the other end and hate yourself for killing it? 

Don't they deserve that laughter?  After all, they've been there for you countless times before.  This is no way to thank them.  So the problem becomes less than it is, or isn't even mentioned.  Part of you knows they'd want to help if they knew how you felt, but they just sounded too happy to bring down for someone so weak.

Sometimes... this is what I feel.