Hefficide's blog: "The John Chronicles"

I think I mentioned, before, that I make a great effort to minimize my real world drama, in blogs, on Fubar. The dirty little secret, let out of the bag, is that I have Myspace for those sorts of blogs. But the last few days have been pure Hell and I felt like, at least, a few people on Fu would want to know why I haven't been around. So, for their sakes, I will provide an overview of what's been happening in my world that is keeping me away. What is probably the least important factor, but the most directly effecting one is that I made a bulls rush decision to try and quit smoking three days ago. It did not go well. I found myself fighting through about twenty to twenty-four hours of a nicotine fit, successfully onto to realize that this, apparently, represents my breaking point. That has been a total bitch. About a year ago I was laid off from my job. At the time it seemed like no big deal. I had a part time, self employed thing, consulting with small businesses, that I had been doing on the side, anyway. After the lay off, I decided to give self employment a full time shot. Things went great for awhile. Then they started to slow down. And now making money, at all, in this endeavor is next to impossible. I made the mistake of training my clients about what I was doing. I taught them enough that I put myself out of demand. Now they simply network, amongst themselves, to share the knowledge and skills that I had provided to them, as a group. I've fallen out of the loop. To add problems, I bought a car two years ago. I had just been through a divorce, a few years earlier, and aspects of that divorce were still on my credit. So, I had to go to a "remedial lender", in this case a company called Drivetime. Long story short, I signed papers to purchase a car from them that bluebooked, at the time of sale, at about eight grand. They were charging twelve. But beggars can't be choosers and I agreed to it. I had to have a car to work. Two years later, and eleven grand into a car that, now, bluebooks at a tad over six thousand, I had to call them and ask for an extension on my payment. Their response was that, since I am self employed, I am a flight risk. They denied the extension and have filed for repossession. Upon hearing this I broke out my paperwork, on the car, to figure out how close I as to paying it off. Remember this car bluebooked, at the time of sale, at eight grand... Well, after paying eleven grand I have discovered that I sill owe twelve grand more. $22,000.00 for a $6,250.00 car. I've decided NOT to fight the repossession, though I am going to raise total Hell with every agency that I can complain to about the fact that I think predatory lending laws were broken in my contract. I don't own a backup car any more. I allowed my ex, just before we broke up, to sell a paid off Chevy Blazer that I owned. We never drove it and I caved in, to her pressure, and allowed her to sell it, basically, as junk. It looks like I will be a pedestrian for awhile. I have to find a job that actually will cover bills, since my attempt at self employment has tanked. Finding work, in this area, without a car, is just about impossible. Since I have lived in the Southside of Atlanta, I have not had a job, at all, that was any closer than a thirty or forty minute drive. So things are going to get very difficult for awhile. And, now, with a repossession on my credit, getting another car is going to basically require an act of God. Thanks to half a handful of Klonezepam, I can sit here and write about this, tonight. But, without sedation, this entire reality is simply overpowering to me. I have always been good at figuring out contingency plans. This time I am drawing a blank. No car. No real income. No real chance to find work, now... I'm ready to start eyeballing freeway overpasses looking for a new home. And that, friends, is why I have been absent from the wonderful world of Fubar. Things have gotten tough enough that I just don't have time or patience for distraction these days. I am sure that, before too long, I'll figure something out, and get it all in order. I am good that way. But, as things stand now, I am about ready to develop a huge drug habit and just give up on everything. Maybe there is a perverse freedom in that idea. Who knows. I'll update this when new info when I get any.

As much as I labor towards it. Today is not turning out to be a very good day in my life. Several different factors are effecting things. And they are all things that are beyond my ability to control. My fifteen year old nephew began having petit mal seizures about two months ago. He would have several a day and they were not really anything frightening at all. He would simply daze off for a moment. We, as a family, actually made light of it. Not to be mean. Rather to try and make him feel better about what was happening. Early Thursday morning my brother-in-law awoke to loud sounds. When he went to investigate he found my nephew on the floor, paper white, blue lipped, and convulsing violently. The seizure lasted more than ten minutes AFTER my brother-in-law became aware of it. There is no way of knowing how long it went on before it had forced my nephew to physically fall out of bed. That, in and of itself, would be enough to weigh upon me. But there is so much more going on than just that. A few people, in a lounge I spend time in, here, on Fubar, know bits and pieces about my friend Kathleen. The Kathleen situation is a very difficult thing to explain to people. It seems to be a very non traditional arrangement that she and I have. Kathleen and I dated years ago and broke up. To be perfectly honest, I left her for another woman. This was not as cold an act as it sounds like, within the limitations of a blog. She and I were both ready to be done when it ended. Very ready. I just happened to click with somebody else a month or two before I would have liked to have done so. I left Kathleen for Janna. The woman in my profile pics, here. The woman who shredded my heart and soul. For the three years I was with Janna, Kathleen hated me. I tried, many, many times to apologize. I tried to reason with her. I tried to salvage a friendship. All to no avail. If I sent ten friendly text messages to her, I would, eventually get one very angry text in return. For three years. Then Janna threw me out. There was no real warning (Though in hindsight I realize there were many warnings that I didn't allow myself to see), and I was left, instantly, homeless and without possessions. I had my car, a couple of days worth of clothing, and an ex who had already moved her new boyfriend into my house. To this day I have not gotten back all of my possessions. She kept everything that her, now, husband "liked". In the Fu world it is easy to say "If that were me I would have....". But the truth is that anything I might have done would have looked, to the police, like I was the jealous ex, trying to stir the pot. And my ex made it very clear that the police would be called if I so much as glanced at her new, 24 year old man in the wrong tone. I honestly could have broken this kid in half. No bragging. I just would have owned him in an altercation. It wasn't worth it. Anyway, in the midst of this, suddenly, there is Kathleen. Out of the blue she shows up and begins to pick up the broken pieces of "me". She got me into therapy, onto depression medication, and kept me alive when I probably would not have done so if left to my own devices. It is a bit of an exaggeration to say that she spoon fed me. But not much of one. Seven months have passed, give or take a few days, since that night that Janna threw me out. And for that entire time Kathleen has been my only real emotional support. She's even paid bills for me when I couldn't keep my own shit together. I owe her so much. Until the last week or two Kathleen stayed at my house almost all day every day. She slept here, in my bed. I know people would mock that a man and a woman could sleep in a bed and remain plutonic. But, with a couple of drunken exceptions, we did. We weren't really friends, in the truest definition of the word. We were more than that, but less than lovers. Well, Kathleen has met a guy, and I am thrilled for her. I am very happy for her. But now I find, yet again, another gaping hole in my life. I never really made it to "alone" after Janna. I am there now. This is not a desperational state I am in. I don't really have to be alone, to such a degree. I have a few friends who I could visit with. But, as can happen after break-ups, they all seem to tie back into my ex somehow. So I avoid them. I could be sexually active, without much effort. But that seems like an empty proposition to me these days. The idea of sex without something else to go along with it just isn't enticing. For the sake of honesty, though, I will admit that, even with my lofty ideas about wanting more, if I were to get a few drinks into me, and the right woman, or kind of woman, happened by, I would prove my hypocrisy and would take seven months of celibacy out on the poor woman. At any rate... Sometimes, in life, we come to crossroads where the avenues are clearly labeled, and we can see all the way into the horizon. We know where we are. But, other times, we find ourselves at divergences where there are no signs, and visibility is nil. All we have to rely upon, in these places, is our internal compass... Gut instinct. The last time I listened to my gut, it got my soul torn into confetti. I've lost faith in my instincts. Yet I still stand here, with several paths before me, having to pick one to walk down. So much rides upon this. And yet, the whispers I hear, from every road, seem to sound a lot like the Devil laughing.

At the end of this blog I am going to post a link. I offer this link because it is the catalyst for my writing today. Over the last few years, on my Myspace account, I have written several blogs about the direction that world politics is taking. It is my habit to try and dilute these rants, to some degree, as it is very easy to get pegged as an alarmist, and to have ones thoughts dismissed as hyperbole. Today I am not very concerned with seeming alarmist. In fact it is my position that the time for being alarmist is probably already in the past. The very idea of raising an alarm is predicated upon the notion that something might be saved. An alarm at the first sign of smoke is productive. Calling the fire department to a smoking ruin is less so. As a citizen of the United States of America, I fear that I have missed the smoke and am discussing a ruin right now. Even as a youth I realized that much of what people believed about this country was incorrect. America is NOT a democracy. It is a democratic republic. It has always been so. Think about it, do you pledge allegiance to the democracy or the republic? Democracies and republics are very different things in practice, if not in theory. In a democracy every voice matters. In a republic, only select voices have sway. Think, if you will, of the "super delegates" that have been in the news of late. Twenty-five years ago these delegates would not have even been mentioned in news. The citizens of this nation had the misconception of "one man, one vote" and nobody really worried beyond that belief. Then again, twenty-five years ago old conventions still held, and the delegates had only once gone against the popular vote. So it was easy to have misconceptions about the process. As another example, the second amendment is a highly misunderstood piece of legislature. We, as Americans are not expressly allowed to bear arms. We are allowed to have well armed and regulated militia. Militia, these days, brings to mind images of white supremacists or extremists, hiding in compounds. In the early days of this nation we had a very small standing military, and a very large segment of armed and organized citizen militia who would augment the military when needed. They also existed to oppose the military should the military ever be mustered against the citizenship. The police state, we now exist in, proves that the second amendment failed, horribly, at it's intended goals. We are under siege, to a degree, from our own governance and we have lost all prophylactic protection from it. It is absurd, in this day and age to conceive of a SWAT team being met by armed civilians, and driven back. But, in the origins of our nation, this right and power was intended. It would be possible for me to go on and on about a laundry list of things that we take, as everyday and acceptable, but which our forefathers would have rebelled against. The income tax, fractional banking, militarization of police, abuse of the executive and judicial process, land appropriation, and a slew of laws, including the patriot act, the military commissions act, and almost everything labeled as "homeland security". Even a few generations back NONE of these things would have been possible, without, literally, a civil war occurring. Now we just accept them without thought. We believe that the government has our best interests at heart. We believe that others will oversee our safety and freedom. We were taught, in school, about checks and balances. So, we are conditioned to believe that things are, actually, checked and balanced. We pump three dollar a gallon gas, as we smoke four or five dollar a pack cigarettes and we think nothing of it. The older people have been conned into believing that a hurricane changed everything. That, due to one storm, now, forever, gas is an issue. And if you inquire beyond Katrina, as fault, you are met with rhetoric about "peak demand" and "seasonal mixtures" as the reasons prices are high. Amazing that for decade upon decade NONE of these factors caused price shifting. Isn't it? And how unpatriotic it is to realize that most of the Washington insiders happen to, at this point in time, come from oil wealthy families. In fact, since 09/11/01, how unpatriotic it is to question government at all. Personally, to me, the greatest tragedy of 09/11 is that the deaths of so many innocent people have been hijacked and used to predicate so many heinous and illegal acts, across the globe. Including acts that directly effect the U.S. population. The temptation, at this point, to dabble in conspiracy theory is very compelling. But it is totally unproductive. Studies, for example, show that the majority of those polled, in all western nations, feel that Lee Harvey Oswald could not have acted alone in the assassination of President Kennedy. Yet, when polled again, about any number of specific theories, regarding this event, the majority of people dismissed any and all theories as "crack pot" ideas. Think deeply about that. Most of us believe, in our own hearts, that there is more to the story. But we suspect anyone who would voice the opinion... This is called conditioned response. We compartmentalize our initial ideas away from how we've learned to react. And, after 09/11 conditioned response gained a giant boost in its' effectiveness because it was joined by a very strong need to disbelieve that anything, other than the official story, was possible. I put it to you, the reader, that we should suspect the entire story. After the battle cries of "Alamo", "Pearl Harbor", and "Gulf of Tonkin", to name a few, were all historically proven to have been avoidable, and even fabricated, any single event that serves as a catalyst for war should be suspect. But we do not suspect. We are too busy worrying about our jobs, debts, and personal concerns to be able to stop long enough to see a bigger picture. This is not judgment and I am not exempt. But it is a very accurate portrayal of the situation. It's much easier for me to focus upon meeting a few friends for drinks, or to want to FU, than it is to take the exhaustive time to research things. To illustrate a bit of what I am talking about, use Google. You can type in "google" and the name of any other country, other than the one you reside in, and find that nations Google engine. Strangely enough, searching certain words, on the different Google engines, produces very different results. It is a very distinct demonstration of information control. Which, in essence, goes right back to conditioned response. Hopefully this vague overview of ideas might stir a person or two into doing a bit of research of their own. Then, if that person, or two, writes their own blog, another person or two might do the same. Viola, a grass roots movement. The link promised, earlier, is provided. http://www.newswithviews.com/Evensen/greg25.htm

Well, since it is a crappy morning, thus far, I guess I can blog for awhile. I need about 4,500 points to level up, once again. So I am biding my time and waiting for happy hours, so that my efforts won't seem so ONE POINT AT A TIME useless. Please, don't get the wrong idea. I am not looking to be one of those folks who has a zillion points and is a Fu-Godthing... I only want to make it to level 20 because the whole "highlighted name" thing appeals to me for some odd reason. Level 20 is the goal I set for myself, and it what I am concerned with achieving. After that I won't care, and will just take points as they come, instead of spending hours getting them. I made what I think will probably prove to be a poor decision, a couple of days ago, by letting a few Fu friends get added to my Myspace profile. It's not that I have anything to hide. But there is a difference in how I interact with each sight. Fubar is where I came to escape much of the drama of my everyday life. Myspace is where most of the people involved in my day to day drama, happen to be. Makes for a totally different dynamic. Imagine the difference between a party that is hopping, and one that is woefully dead. Fubar is the HOPPING party for me. I don't let most of my negative feelings show up here. Myspace, on the other hand, being the last real link between my ex, her social circle, and myself, is a place that rarely sees me say anything positive at all. Besides, with friends, there, I can discuss issues about my battle with depression, and PTSD, without worrying about judgment. Here I am not so sure. Here I am already a stranger to everybody. A stranger with "problems" is more than the average person would keep an open ear to, if that makes sense. Oh well, the cats out of the bag. And it's no real biggie. If my little Fu world falls apart, I do have a real life to involve myself in, even if I have been somewhat escapist as of late. It's not a bad life, for the most part, and I could easily get wrapped up in it and forget either FU or Myspace exist... Even both. That's enough rambling for now. Time to drive to the store and get some smokes...

Writing in this format... The blog... For me, is as natural a process as anything could be. It is total stream of consciousness, pouring out, through my fingers, and onto these blank entry fields. In fact if I were one to keep a journal, I doubt that it would be as stark and honest as my blogs tend to get. And this fact, in and of itself, is both a blessing and a curse. My downfall, you see, is decorum... A sense of propriety that others seem to have and which I seem be totally vacant of. "We", I have been told, over and over again, by more people than I can count, "Do NOT share our intimates with the world at large". And, apparently, "intimates" means just about every single bit of personal detail that would ever matter. This is the Internet, for Gods' sake! LIE LIE LIE is the battle cry. Anonymity is armor here. One should never be real in an artificial place. It's just common sense. We don't want strangers knowing our affairs. Or worse... Our real life contemporaries stumbling upon these Interweb faux pauxs, and becoming empowered by having found these secrets out. The looks I get when I respond with a simple "bullshit" would astound you. My friends try so hard to make me understand that I should not be exposing my soft, underbelly, to the world. They just don't get it. I imagine most people wouldn't. We do live in a very predatory world. Underneath the smiles and the soft tissue, lurk sharks in bipedal form. To let your guard down, in this world, is to set yourself up for failure. Trust will be violated, eventually, no matter how Holy a union had forged it. These are lessons that I have learned the hard way. I have stood and watched as other people shred me for their own motives and aspirations. I have given my love to lovelessness. But to let it change me? In one of my many contradictions, as personality goes, I am both innocent and jaded, all at once. I have seen, experienced, and lived through things that will never see these blog entries, in mention, or otherwise. I've no need to type on about demons I've already conquered. But, through it all, I always managed to hang onto just enough of my innocence to allow me to still FEEL human. Even if my past might suggest something more of a bestial and violent nature. It is that hard won innocence that makes me write these blogs. This is my confessional. This is my sanctum seclorum. In exposing my jugular vein, to the whole world, I somehow, in return, find the strength to live with the things that I have to. Caution is not just thrown to the wind, here. It is ignored utterly. I will find no peace in half measures and empty gestures. For me, here, in these seldom read, barely noticed petitions... I bare my entire soul. I keep covenant with my darkest and most bitter secrets. I hold council with my own strengths and weaknesses, treating them as equal. Wow... A lot to have said, to have really said nothing. Well, nothing in some eyes... To others maybe it speaks more. I have much to be penitent about. Too much. Even those who know me, intimately, have a hard time believing some of the things I have done, in my years. Others, know because they were witnesses to moments of vulcanizing choices. Enough needs to escape the maelstrom of my interior that I could spend weeks... Maybe even months voicing it all. In my arrogance I have caused harm to so many. In my conceit and vanity, I have broken hearts, and heads... All in the name of my own Gods. I've abused myself, above all others, through this process. I have put myself in peril and pain more than anyone else I know of. Somehow, when I was younger, it seemed to help me justify my selfish nature... If I suffered more than I caused others to suffer, then the scale was balanced. Oh to have the ability to be that blind still...

I could be out point whoring, or harassing mummers right now. But I am in way too good of a mood for these endeavors. "Good"? I honestly don't know if good is the right word, or if it is even applicable. However, whatever this feeling is, it is infinitely more palatable than the mood I have been in for the last five months. Damn, how I wish there were a way to simply paint a picture of the last few years of my life, into this blog, so that much of what I am going to say would have a better context. But I can't paint, and it would fill volumes to explain it all with words... I found out, exactly two days ago, that my ex is 10 weeks pregnant. I had already found out she's married. This isn't odd, other than the fact that she and I only broke up on August 4th of 2007. And, up until that very afternoon, she swore that she loved me and wanted to be with me forever. The words literally dripped from her lips as she was packing my things, saying that she was tidying up. It would be easier, for me, to comprehend it all if I were a junkie, or alcoholic, or if I were abusive... Anything that might make the betrayal make more sense than it does. But the truth is that, at 41, which is my age, we'd tried to have children twice, and she'd miscarried twice. She blamed it up on my age, and not upon the fact that she'd had an STD, as a teenager, and developed something called PID. Which is what the doctors said caused the losses. I sincerely wish, for her, that this time, things work out. She dumped me for a guy half my age just for this purpose. I hope her decision proves to have been a just one. Anyway, since August the 4th, of 2007, I have been less than alive. A dear friend, in fact, yesterday, told me that two months ago she feared I would simply die... That I looked dead already. I'd lost weight. My skin had become sallow. Depression had kicked my ass and I was fading. I can't say how close I came to simply ceasing to exist from what the medical journals call "broken heart syndrome" which is a REAL medical condition. But I imagine I came about as close as one can without actually expiring from it. Months have passed since then and things have gotten better. I still have bad days. But I look like a human being again. I have GOOD days, lately, which is a wonderful thing. There was a time when I truly believed that all of my good days were behind me. I am happy to say that I was wrong about that. During this period, since August, I have lived my life as something of a leper. ONE good friend stood by my side, and took care of me. Her name is Kathleen and I love her madly and dearly. She is the best friend I have ever had. But everyone else, to one degree, or another, simply disappeared during my depression. I can't blame them, really. Dealing with a half dead person can't be easy. Tonight I logged onto MySpace. I know, I know, dirty words in FuLand. But I have my REAL life friends on MySpace. Fubar is my anonymity fix. I have invited a few friends to join, and they probably will. But I did not do so until the last couple of days. I enjoyed coming to a place where NOBODY knew me. I could act more like my "old" self here, being a stranger, than I could anywhere else. In a huge way, I think that Fubar helped me heal. It allowed me to be social. It allowed my battered self esteem to be stroked a bit, whenever a woman would shoutbox me, or comment, saying I was cute. It provided me with friends who weren't aware of my baggage. It allowed me to open up again. Well, tonight, when I opened Myspace, there was not one message from an old potential flame, nor were there two. There were three different messages, from three different woman, from my real life... All attractive. All very close friends. All former lovers. And all expressing interest in being around me, to one degree or another, once again. One of these women is married, but in an open sort of situation, and we have a sexual history together due to that. Another is an ex of mine from a long time ago... Who I've missed on a fairly regular basis, over the years. But the third was from that one person... You know, the one person who you always wonder if you should have been with??? That one person who you had chemistry with, but the timing was never quite right? That third person and I have this kind of thing. And I get the impression, from what she said, that the timing might just be right, for a change. I'm not sure if I am ready to jump head first into anything romantic at all. But damn is it nice to feel like it is possible. The woman who is my ex wrote me one of the most beautiful and touching letters I have ever received. My real name is John, and there is a Sinead O'Conner song called "John I Love You". She quoted parts of that song, and said things that made me feel worthwhile, about myself, for the first time in a very long time. I've posted pics of these women, in my profile here, though I won't identify which is which, just in case any would be offended that I spoke, so openly, about them. There is still a veil of anonymity to it if I don't point them out. I've lived in a cold, dark winter for what feels like an eternity. Today I felt the sun shine again. Incredible...

So, insomnia, once again, stole away my night. Normally I would have spent my time in "The Real Deal Lounge" with my FuFriends, who Fu-Rock. But my mood was lacking. So, instead of bringing the online party down, I opted for point whoring. Well, hours later, and so many pics, mumms, blogs, and stashes rated... And like a grand earning of a few hundred Fubucks and a few points, I decided I might just waste soem time blogging. 12:22 in the afternoon,and I just broke down and took some of my narcotic medication. I usually try to avoid these meds for the simple fact that they are narcotic. But, with a documented diagnosis of post traumatic stress disorder, sometimes necessity gets the better part of valor. So, Xanax induced blogs are what my Fuworld receives, from me, today. I would post a Mumm for some really easy points. But I have yet to get used to being called "gay", "ugly", "huge eared", "retarded", and the plethora of other insults that the Mumm folks love to toss around. It's not that I am think skinned, mind you. I am just as, if not more, sarcastic and capable of abuse as anyone who's flamed my Mumms. I just never have the urge to express myself, that way, online. Takes a HUGE set of nuts to insult somebody who you know lives far, far away and who isn't going to drive to your house and beat your ass for your trespasses. I prefer, when it is applicable, to pick my battles, and then deal with them, in the real world, where my opponent actually has the option of defending himself. Call my old school, or crazy, or whatever. I just don't see the point of coming to a social networking sight JUST to be antisocial. Though I am a big fan of antisocial things in general. Just not the cowardly sort. Having said that, point whoring is quite the temptation, in this "My Fu rank is bigger than YOUR Fu rank" domain, and I will probably post a Mumm at some point today, just to finalize my next level-up. My general experience, aside from some flames, though has been unbelievably positive. I'm still recovering from a life altering break up, from a long term relationship, in ways. And Fubar has provided me with a very much needed distraction. I am sincerely grateful for all of the people who have interacted with me, rated me WAY higher than my "average" looks deserve. And even to the smart asses for giving me a few laughs. Even if those laughs were cowardly little bards, to some degree. I mean at least the dipshit who said I have HUGE ears kept my mind off of my depression for a few minutes. And, for the record, they are NOT huge, they're just attached to a skinny guys face. It's a perspective thing. So go study ART, huge ear calling guy! My time spent in the "Real Deal" lounge always makes my day. I know that the people there, for the most part, think I am insane. I go there for stress reduction, and distraction, and that is exactly what I accomplish. I leave my entire real world behind whilst in the lounge. I joke. I say off the wall things just to see if anyone replies. I get snarky. I, then, buy a few rounds and throw a few compliments to keep things all on an even keel. It's not the largest lounge on Fubar, by any means. But the people there are really warm, fun, and caring. Besides, they play ANY music requested, and I find no end in the joy of being able to request death metal right after some Fergie song was just played. The reactions are priceless. And I can't be that bad at it. I'm barely Fu- literate and I already have a Rolex in my giftbox. And a Rolex from a woman who rates in the "top 100" here, all of the time. LaLa, darlin'. I do so admire, respect, and love you! Oh, and your heathen, psycho husband too! One day, if fate permits, I would love to have a few beers with both of you! Tara, and Docy... Same applies. Big Love, you are my new hero. And Tara, if ya weren't married... I'd SSSSSOOOOO be hitting on you to the point where you'd probably involve magistrates just to get me to stop! You are an incredible woman! And, having spat all of that out, into this overly inflated blog (Which all my blogs tend to be, except the angry ones), it is time for me to find a new distraction! Have a kick ass day (To the three people who will read this and the 1.3 of you who will make it this far!)

Alright. I know that I already posted a blog, discussing my sleeping pills, and changed my "online status" to something equivalent to "pass out time. But, for better or for worse, the so called "nite nite" pills seem to be working more like "stoned and happy pills.... And I am just going to let that go to waste... Although being halt out of it and trying to type, on a Laptop, half prone, in bed, is a totally new and fun challenge! Those of you who pay attention will come to realize, fairly quickly, that I love to write. I have blog accounts on MANY different sites, which offer such services, and I use them all, to one degree, or another, to express different aspects of myself and my life. Myspace, for example, is where many of my real life friends to, so they get the real world, whining, bitching, and the whole "woe is me" thing. Blogspot, on the other hand, tends to get my political and philosophic meanderings. A sight that I can't recall, by name, presently, ends up getting my thoughts upon theoretical physics and science in general. Yes, the man who types "boobies, three dozen times a day, here, on Fubar, is actually pretty well versed in such thing as string theory, the electric universe theory, and things Einsteinian in general. It's just that boobies are way more fun. Fubar, I think, will, in the fullness of time, get glimpses into all of the above subjects, and even a few more. After all, I can say "fuck" here and not lose my account (At least it's worked that way so far...). I understand that there are always going to be people, everywhere, who look hard to find offense in things, and I am sure I will, one day, get "flagged". But, hey, I'm an educated man and I do understand that profanity is the repose of the uneducated mind. I just happen to also believe that profanity facilitates communication in a much more effective manner, in certain circumstances. Trust me, screaming that one is about to "copulate the dickens out of you" is no match for the classic "I'm going to fuck your brains out.". Be offended all you want. But I speak the truth. Strangely enough my introduction to Fubar, which was then called "Cherrytap" was that a MySpace friend, who happens to be a fairly famous female porn actress, invited me here, asking if I would be kind enough to comment upon some of her NSFW pics, which MySpace does not allow. I came, commented, and then forgot this place existed for about a year. I have tons of friends on that OTHER, aforementioned sight. And, honestly, when I blog there, I get tons of hits. It stroked my ego. It also allowed me to speak with people I know, from my neck of the woods, about arranging weekend plans, and being invited to parties and whatnot. It served it's purpose. And, for an hour, or so, a week, it still does. I even author an obligatory blog, there, once every week, or so, just to let folks know that I am still alive and well. But this site has really stolen my attention. There is just SO much more, here, to do. Mums, lounges, raising levels, buying fake drinks with fake money. It's all fun. Though the buying of fake drinks is Fubankrupting my ass on a regular basis. But, still, it's all in fun. Besides, as far as I've learned, if I just take a few pics of my penis, I'm bound to get way more fu money than I ever dreamt of having. THIS is an idea that I ponder pretty often! LOL Ah well, now it is really time to try and sleep. In fact it's a few hours passed when I should have done so. My "job" is not physically demanding, by any stretch of the imagination. But it is stressful. And being tired, Irish, and stressed around business-folk is never a good thing. So, goodnight to the few who read this. I will return to write more eventually!

OK folks, I have taken my medication that is, affectionately referred to, around here, as my "nite-nite" pills. So I won't be long for blogging. Or at least not long for LUCID blogging. But, to Hell with it. I love to write, and that's just how it is! There are times, here, in FuLand, when I really want to comment upon the absolute train wreck that is my day to day life. In the lounge I tend to hang out in "THE REAL DEAL LOUNGE", Umm props and free fubucks please... I sometimes hint at aspects of my real life. But. even there, nobody knows what I do for a living, or what my hobbies, outside of Fubarring might happen to be. And I kind of like it that way. To be blunt, if I were to break down and tell the whole, twisted tale of "John" (I'm John, BTW), nobody would believe it anyway. I have enjoyed a pretty interesting life. Kind of like "Forrest Gump" but with more sex and no leg braces. When I make new friends, in the real world, they always come to me, at some point, after time has passed, and tell me that they thought I was bullshitting about my past, and parts of my present. So... If real world people doubt, then Internet people would be even more difficult to convince. After all, this is the 'Net, and we are all rich, beautiful, and well endowed. I don't say that in a judgmental tone, at all. There are many people, in this world, who NEED to create a persona as a means of escape, and that is totally cool and understandable. I just happen to be one of the few who is more comfortable toning my cyber persona down. My real life is stressful enough. I come here to escape it. I do have to admit that I am very old hat, as it were, when it comes to the net. I was doing "chat" here long before it was easy. There were no web based chat clients or social networking sites. There were things called IRC and Usenet. Neither was nearly as fun or instantly gratifying as Fubar. I, in short, LOVE this place! Oh, and the Youporn... Damn if that isn't about the coolest thing ever invented! LOL I did mention "nite nite" pills, right, because they are kicking in! My quest, for Fubar, over the next few weeks, is to post a few hundred new pics of myself. I have obtained a new digital camera and plan to spend a day, or two, this week, when I am free from work hassles, finding killer places to take pics. In Atlanta we have a beautiful graveyard / garden called Oak Lawn. I think that will definitely be one of the places. And there is an Irish pub close by that I might venture into for a few, good, old fashioned "drunk John" shots. The pics, on my profile, now, where I am in a black leather and a green T, were taken there. Just at a time when I thought I'd be married, eventually, to the person who was holding the camera. She tossed me out, a few months ago, and married a kid, whom she'd met two months earlier, so God bless them both. He's illiterate. I know this because he sent me a "threatening" email and I never quite got to to point of it because I was so amazed by the misspellings and typos. Besides, after threatening to shoot, mug, and attack me from behind, he closed by adding that if I laid a finger upon him, he'd press charges. Laughable. Laughable and not worth five seconds of my time. The good news, though, is that, after five months of depression and celibacy, I am ready to get back into the game. I'm ready to date. I doubt that it'll be anyone from Fubar. Not because I have some sort of bias against internet romance. It's just that everybody I meet here seems to live in Minnesota. I'm a bit horny. But not horny enough to drive quite that far for a date. Ya Know? But, Hell, give me a dry month or two, and I might be blogging about my plans to drive to Minnesota on my days off. LOL Life always amazes me with its' twists and turns. Just as an aside, my home office, thus my computer, are in a solarium, which is where I also house my ferrets. I don't understand just how smart the little bastards are, though I've learned that they are some really bright critters. But, when I am here, lounge music blaring, they always stay asleep.... But let me blog for ten minutes and they are wide awake trying to read over my shoulder.... Hrm. Wonder if they've been hired out as spies by somebody! LOL OH well, the sleep meds are kicking in hard, and though I am not logging off, as I have about a zillion pics to rate before I can level up, or afford to buy FuDrinks again, my tolerance for writing has waned. I'll be back to write more another time!

Fuck could possibly be the most underrated word in the entire English language. If you see something that is totally jacked up, you can simply say "FFFUUUCCCKKK", in the right tone, and everyone knows exactly what you meant. A few, maybe, will even thank you for expressing what they, themselves, could not find words to express. See a fine member of the opposite sex? "FFFUUUCCCKKK", with a slightly different tone, same result. Then there's the potential to add other words, for effective "fuck" augmentation. "Fuck me!", "Fuck you!", "Fuck off!", "Fuck it!", "Fuck this!, and the always poetic "Fucking A" are just a few examples of the powerful communication skills that a master of the word "fuck" has at their fingertips. Fuck is also the code name for one of my favorite activities... But that is a blog for a different day! In fact, I didn't even begin THIS blog with the intention of discussing "fuck". The word just happened to pop into my head as I looked at this blank "page" (I know, the technical term for a computer entry section would be "field", but screw that. I prefer the word "page". I am a writer damn it.) This wonderful little corner of the Interverse, called "Fubar" has been a great distraction, for me, from my "day to day". I've met a few really cool cyber-people. I've leveled up, several times, which, for some reason, makes me feel as though I've accomplished something. And I've seen boobies and coochies. LOTS and LOTS of boobies and coochies. Nudity is always a HUGE plus in my world. I love the boobies. The downfall here, though, is that, if this were a real bar, truthfully, I'd stare at all the beautiful women and have a fairly strong chance of actually ending up in bed with one of them by the end of the night. I'm not saying I'm a pimp. But I am saying that I do have game enough to make things work. Here, if I were to end up in a bed, it seems that it would involve no less than a five hour drive. I've got WAY too much ADHD for that! It's probably best that way... The distance factor. One of my diagnosis (Of many, over the years) is that I have a predisposition to be overly sexually active. With gasoline at three bucks a gallon, my inner greed serves to keep my Fu-libido in check. A few months ago, right after the end of my last relationship, when I was heartbroken, lonely, and totally devoid of anything resembling self-esteem, I probably would have packed up my shit and moved somewhere that had a thick Fu-population. It's probably a good thing that I hadn't connected those dots, at that time. Then again???? This place has gotten my creative juices flowing though. I have pondered starting a reality / game show called "Fu-Factor" where the contestants compete in a variety of challenges. Like who can post the most NSFW pics in five minutes...OR, for others, who can download and post the most fake pics of themselves without being caught or called out... It's a work in progress. Before I do this, though, I have to learn a few more Fu-secrets.... Like why women, here, are all Fu-rich,and the guys are all Fu-broke. I have theories... LOL. Hell, if I could just learn how to get more points than I have been getting by rating PIC after PIC, I'd be happy. Dear God, I didn't begin this blog meaning to discuss "fuck" or "Fubar"... the ADHD is really shining through. I think that Fubar should award points for blogging and for reading blogs (Assuming that they don't. I make this assumption because posting a blog has never caused me to see a "points awarded" screen). I mean, damn, this is one of the most labor intensive of things that we can do here. This is where the "real" comes out. Isn't it? Hell if they awarded points for this, I'd freaking blog about every aspect of my life. I'd give play by plays every single time I had sex. I'd describe which dollar menu my dinner was purchased from. I'd write endless tirades on what a lousy actor Ben Affleck is. I'd rock at this! But, as it stands, they don't pay and I'm done writing!