Excerpt from My First Novel Yellow Socks Confessions of a Non Don Juan

An Excerpt from my 2010 novel Yellow Socks- Confessions of a Non Don Juan

 

Skeleton Woman or Things Like Me Don’t Happen To You

 

Christ it happened again. Another notch in my “girls that want to be my friend” belt. It made sense. We were perfect friends and she was real cute too. I kept thinking that I was ok with it. I’d be happy just being a friend again. I keep turning to God for strength to accept my fate as “Friend to all women” that I’m attracted to. My acceptance level seems to be ok. I go to my happy place. I go to my cave. I say the serenity prayer over and over I am sure that I will be ok with this. Yes I will. (no I won’t)

 

Cut to a scene from Fight Club

 

TYLER

Stop it! This is your pain — this is your burning hand. It’s right here! Look at it.

 

JACK

I’m going to my cave. I’m going to my cave to find my power animal!

 

TYLER

No, don’t deal with this the way those dead people do. Come on

!

JACK

I get the point, ok, please!

 

TYLER

No, what you’re feeling is premature enlightenment.

 

Ok. I get the idea. Feel the pain. Feel the hurt. Feel the rejection saturating my heart until I bleed more than just these words all over the place and finger my open sore of a brain as it wants to dwell on her over and over again. Screaming and roaring her name with anger and grief and sometimes a slight relief that it’s done and I know that she will not reject me again unless I go back for more and more or less or a little bite of her cheeseburger and a sip of her Pepsi to tide me over until the next one comes along with better food and spirits for my, for me for. Four scores of seven years itch as I scratch the weathered tired out mongrel of an ego that was left stray years ago in a pound for wayward hearts and letches that can only love and never be loved.

 

The pain of being a friend. A friend. I’ve heard that “Let’s just be friends” millions of times in my life as I gargle a new mouthwash and toothpaste hoping my breath will be the answer to my problem. My problem is as follows: me, myself and I. We altogether are the problem. We want to be loved so bad that we give off the vibe that scares the shit out of women so they just want to be friends. Friends. Friends. I think to myself that will be fine. Friends is ok. It’ll do. I can accept that. Bullshit! Feel the pain I tell myself. Embrace it. the pain is your friend. To hurt is to be alive. I’ve never been so alive. I’m alive. So alive.

 

“Did you ever hear about the skeleton woman?” Morton asked.

 

“Was that a Glam rock band from the seventies?” I ask.

 

“Ha. Ha. Nah. It’s an ancient Indian story. This guy was fishing in the middle of a lake. He was totally into it. He was relaxed. Not a care in the world except catching the next fish. All of a sudden he feels a tug on his line and he yanks it up. A skeleton appears on his line. He doesn’t realize that it’s attached to his line and he gets scared. He starts paddling his boat away from it but it follows him. He still doesn’t realize that it’s attached to his line. He gets out of his boat and runs into the village and he is carrying his fishing rod and the skeleton is still right behind him. He jumps into his Tee Pee and it follows him in. He lies down and tries to hide not looking at it for a while. When he finally turns to look at the skeleton it has changed into the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. She is his. The moral of the story is that he was minding his own business doing something he enjoyed and that’s when the right woman came along. In other words when you are not looking for love is when it will find you. ”

 

“I know that but it’s so fucking hard to stay focused on other things without thinking about how much I want to be loved. Fall in love. Ya know?” I responded.

 

“I know. I know.” Morton said.

 

“We’re a generation of men raised by women. I’m wondering if another woman is really the answer we need.” Tyler Durden

 

To purchase click here

Underground Poets Society of 2012

I haven’t been blogging on here for a bit. I’ve been writing a lot of poetry lately and posting it on a poetry page on Facebook. I’ll be publishing a poetry collection by October for the Underground Modern Poets of 2012 book.

Here’s a few samples

BLOODY TOILS

by Tara Seuss

…. my blood is boiling over and over. yes, it is over. make this nightmare stop. stop fucking asking me please, stop everything. stop you. you make me blue, i want you to be fucking true and i want to kill you. i want to kill these toils, troubles and fucking bubbles you cause, fuck off i’m sorry (audience please applause). burn burn, oh yeah, you’re gonna burn- kid you have no idea how much you have to learn. first lesson, you have to give if you want to earn. correction, put that lesson back on the shelf……your only hope is to be someone else. amen.

• Comfort
• By Art Glibfunny
  it was a box
  just a box
  a small
  red
  rectangular
  cardboard box
  with big
  bright
  yellow cages on it
  containing confectionary animals
  from worlds away
  a consumable passport
  to happiness

  it had a string
  to carry it
  and
  it brought joy
  and happiness
  while
  begging great
  questions about
  life at large
  and my place in the
  world
  in the
  young
  comfort
  thank you mom
  days of my
  bologna
  mustard
  and lettuce
  wax paper
  wrapped
  lunch box
  childhood

  even today
  as I cradle
  the red
  cardboard
  box
  and enjoy
  a flat cookie creature
  from the
  flour zoo
  I am
  transported back
  from my jaded
  wake up
  nap time is over
  tired
  adult
  traveled path
  to the buster brown
  saddle shoe
  milk and
  graham cracker
  comfort and
  innocence
  so vital to
  happy longevity
  and the
  human condition

• SQt 2010

Untitled by Ilan Miller

My heart is a proximity mine, send in the dogs, pull the pin, change the channel, and watch your step.

Don’t come in, the waters not fine, the rats are abandoning ship, your favorite show has been cancelled, and violence prevails.

Life has become a sad 80s montage, only dumbed down. The finish lines been burned, there is no consolation prize.

My personal hell has frozen over, I grab my glass, my icepick and my whiskey and I think of days long gone…

There’s many more and I’ll post some here and there. If I didn’t post yours it’s only because I chose a few random great poems. Like I said-More to come!

Shit. Piss. Fuck. Blah blah blah . . .

 

Shit. Fuck. Piss. Etc. Man this new way of life is making my new way of living extremely difficult. Blah. Blah. Blah.

 

My bills exceed my income every month. Ever since I moved in this house of hell in October 2010 with my good friend and now moody, secretive passive aggressive roommate. My  landlord is also a friend and an aggressive no bullshit type landlord who gets upset when money is late for the rent and the electric and water bills he pays for this house. Blaah bla blah.

 

Piss. Shit. Fuck. I’ve been out of work since May 2010. I was living with my adopted mom. I had a lot of money in the bank and little rent to pay. It was a great deal and I wanted to get my creative projects finished despite my little unemployment checks. I published my first novel a few days after I was fired for example. I wanted to carry the unemployment and my savings as long as I could. I picked up a little labor work with my uncle here and there. Life was good. Not for my Mom. I could tell she wanted me out. Blah. Blah Blah.

 

Fuck. Piss. Shit. An opportunity arose that I couldn’t resist. My friend owned the house next door to his and was renting it out cheap. It’s a 2 bedroom house and I knew a friend that I had talked about getting a place together for years. It was all set for October 1^st 2010. I had plenty of money to last me 3 months or so. I figured I’d get a job at that point. I know I’ve written about this shit so many times but I need to update it for me and possibly you. Blah. Blah. Blah.

 

Shit. Fuck. Piss. When all other options were dwindling I tried to work. A good friend of mine at the time hooked me up with a phone collections job where he worked. It was straight commission. I have 10 years experience doing phone sales and I had high hopes for this job. I was excited. The guy hiring me interviewed me and hired me pretty fast but kept putting off the training date. A week before I was to start my Trigeminal Neuralgia (TN) came out of a 2-year remission. It affected me pretty badly and my Bipolar disorder and anxiety were back in full force. I over slept on my second day of training. I tried calling several times to save my job to no avail. My friend that got me the job told me to just come in person. I was in pain and depression and fear. I lost the job. It was then that I realized that maybe I am unable to work.  Blah blah blah.

 

Piss. Shit. Fuck. It was around this time my adopted mom suggested I pursue the wonderful world of Social Security Disability. She was the last person I know that would support me going on SSD. She has never thought that I was incapable of working. She saw the change. She even read up on Trigeminal Neuralgia and Bipolar disorder. Several acquaintances also suggested I try to apply for SSD. On even had an agency that handles everything for you for a percentage of the retro disability reimbursement called Allsup. I called and started the process back in February 2011. It’s now nearing the end of August and I’m still getting letters and now doctors appointments with their doctors. Blah blah blah. Shit

 

This shit. This piss. This fucking piss shit waiting period could last forever. I have another appointment with a neurologist and then I’m told it will take another month to process and make a decision. I’m kind of happy I get to see the doctors and they can see for themselves what a mess I can be. Blah. After a month my SSD case can go several ways. The best scenario is I get accepted, Allsup takes their cut of my retro pay and I get a check just big enough to pay back the people I borrowed money from, catch up on my immediate bills and then get my barely comfortable monthly check. Blah blah. Or I get rejected and Allsup will fight the rejection and it starts all over again and can take another 3 -6 months or more. Shit. Blah.

 

Fuck, shit piss. The other option is that my case will be moved into another level of evaluation whatever the fuck that means and it will be a few more months of waiting. Then there may be another level of waiting. Waiting. Blah. Fucking blah… My unemployment may be running out in November and if there is no decision by then I am more fucked then I feel like I am now. Blah. Blah blah.

 

Shit. Piss. Fuck. I have had enough. I have never been so broke. I have never had to ask friends and family and friends like this before. My depression, anxiety and face pain are at the extreme. Despite this fact I go numb with denial and escape and want to run, hide (if I could move) or take some deluded yet creative and possibly successful drastic moves. Blahhhhh

 

Bills piling. Shit. If something doesn’t change I could be carless, homeless and broke in even more major debt than ever. Piss. Helpless? Hopeless. I’m not sure. All I know is that I had enough. Enough.

 

Not sure where I will go from here to deal with this shit. All I know is that something has to be done soon before my life is complete udder piss. I have to fuck things up somehow in a different direction. Fly my own . ..blah blah blah… etc…

 

Must win or die trying.

 

 

People Come and People Go: The Next Generation

“Hey man.”

“Hey brother man.”

“Duuuude”

“Yo Rich.”

“Word.”

“(insert any other greeting of friends of mine past and present)”

I was watching Star Trek: The Next Generation the other night. The story was focused on Data, the android who longs to be human or experience the full range of human emotion. He finds out that he somehow dies in the past. Storyline aside, Data was happy that he what an expiration date and didn’t know when. It made him mortal like a human. Someone said to him that it must be tough to make friends and get to know them then they die and he has to do it again. Lacking human emotion, he simple said “then I will make more friends until they go.” It got me thinking. It reflected my life.

I have had so many friends, girlfriends and even families through the years. They come and they go. Some people I keep in touch with do years and then let go. Some friends I never see or talk to again. Best friends forever isn’t a term that applies to my life. I’ve had some of the closest friends a guy could have. I’ve had the worst ones too. It applies to families and girlfriends too. I could go on about the specifics etc but it doesn’t matter. It’s the way things turned out.  I have people in my life and they probably won’t all last and it’s ok. It’s my life.

I have a spiritual life but even that hasn’t been the same through the years. It didn’t exist in my life for years. Even Gods can come and go I guess. I’m still here.

I see some people who aren’t like me. They have the same friends from high school. They have the same family that gave birth to them. They have the same girlfriend or wife and children. That’s not me. Not sure I want that or even care. These were just some thoughts.

Women. You Can’t Live With Them and Men Are Assholes

Women. . . You can’t live with them . . . . Men are assholes that fucked women up. The messed them up for guys like me. Maybe guy like you.

 

We are all a result of our personal experiences in life. Most of us stick with what we experience in life early on and it seems we stop changing in at a certain age. Look around. You can usually tell how old someone is by what they wear, their hair styles, how they speak and their interests like music and television. You know the types. You can tell when someone grew up in the 80’s, 90’s etc.

 

Ahh…. The mysteries of the male and female relations. It’s never been solved but I have my theories and opinions.

 

In my dating experience and the older I get I find that I am less and less of a commodity and I gather more and more baggage. The same goes with the women I encounter or date. It’s been a while but I have been paying attention to other people’s relationships. So when I date a woman I am also dating her last boyfriend/husband/fiancé, the one before that and the one before that. Each experience she has changes her in some ways. This seems to go against what I said earlier about people staying in certain mentalities from early life. It’s been my observation that each man they date reaffirms her attitude from early life rather than changing it especially the women that have had traumatic experiences with men in childhood, teen years and early 20s.

 

So, the reason I was thinking about this is because my friend is having guy troubles. She’s been dating a guy that grew up in the same city neighborhood with the same friends and family dating the same type of girls his entire life. My friend grew up in a backwoods environment and transitioned to the center city life and has had different types and tries to let go of her past relationships when entering a new one. They are only a couple of months in and he didn’t realize how many male friends she had. I hung out with her last night and she let him know she was going out with a guy friend. He started to get jealous. She even called him while we were out to assure him it was cool. His jealousy got worse and worse.

 

Today she posted a photo of us on facebook and he freaked out with even more jealousy. She’s not used to this. Even in her wildest times of her youth she never cheated on a boyfriend. Apparently he has or he has experienced girls cheating on him.

 

It got me thinking about the line from when Harry Met Sally (yes I watched it several times and I’m proud) when Harry says “No man can be friends with a woman he finds attractive. He always wants to have sex with her.” I found this to be fairly accurate for me personally until I hit my late 20s and early 30s. Sex became less important and friendships become more important.

 

I suspect that my friend’s boyfriend still has that mentality in his mid 40s. My friend is a pretty tough bitch sometimes and she won’t tolerate it. She’s still upset about it.

 

The other code I cracked a while ago that I don’t always follow or live up to is the “women are bitches” and “men are assholes” mentality many people seem to have. It’s pretty simple to me.

 

Women are attracted to confident men. In many cases men that appear to be confident are actually cocky. There’s huge difference between cocky and confident. Cockiness is fake. It’s a way of overcompensating for insecurities. These men are usually assholes and dickheads. Men that are nice and accessible appear to be weaker and unconfident and a lot of them are. A woman gets the cocky guy and he turns out to be an asshole. Then she is either a victim or a bitch.

 

Men are attracted to confident women. The louder and more aggressive women turn out to be bitches because of their insecurities. The nice accessible women appear to be weaker and too easy so he turns to the cocky woman and she turns out to be a bitch. It’s a vicious circle for some of us.

 

Due to my personal struggles and variety of women I’ve dated I have been an asshole, a nice guy and a confident man. I’ve had the most luck being nice and confident.

 

I’m not even going to address my thoughts on love. Let’s say, for now, that I have no opinions on love.

 

Love ya.

Destiny

Day 3 of No Job Training. A Loser or a Sick Person?

Well the decision was made or not made. Not sure at this point. Either way I didn’t go into work today. Read my previous blogs to catch up if you haven’t. Maybe I need to over the situation one more time for myself so bear with me..

 

I was at the end of the line with my financial resources. I had just enough in the bank after cashing in my 401ks and the little unemployment I receive to pay a few months rent. I pushed it to the limit and my friend suggested I try doing collections where he worked because they were considering offering employees to work from home. Remote calling I believe it’s called. I liked this because my car is old and not running at it’s best.

 

It took weeks from the suggestion to get the interview back in November 2010. It went well because I have 10 years experience in telephone sales. I discovered that I was going to have to travel there and working from home wouldn’t be a possibility for several months. The manager told me he would call me the next week and I would start work either the last week of December 2010 or the first week of January 2011. I was excited. I thought I was. From what I heard I could make a lot more money than I’ve made in along time. Great.

 

The first week went by and not phone call so I called the manager. He apologized and said it’s real busy and he would call me next week. Next week came and I called him once on Wednesday and left a message and then on Friday and left another message, My friend said that the manager told him he was going to call. To sum it up it was several weeks before I knew anything and that was because my friend bugged the manager and I got the confirmation in a forwarded email. No phone call. So I was finally supposed to start this past Tuesday. I got a phone call from the manager Monday to postpone my start date to Wednesday.

 

Meanwhile, after a 2 year remission of a chronic facial disorder I have came back. It’s called Trigeminal Neuralgia(TM). Refer to my previous blogs about it or look it up. It’s known as the worst pain known t man. It was the reason I quit telephone sales over 8 years ago. I had to go back on pain medications again. My sleep pattern has been screwed up since last Thursday because of the pain and the meds. I also suffer the usual anxiety that seems to creep up on me for no reason a lot of times.

 

I made it to my first day of training barely on time with a decent sleep under my belt. It went decent. I still had anxiety and face pain. I went home and was excited or I thought I was excited to get through the training and start making money. I couldn’t get to sleep until 2 am Thursday morning. I didn’t have to be in work until 10:30 am and it seemed like no problem except I was still in pain and on my meds as directed I might add. I kept waking up through the night. I got up around 5 or 6 am and stayed up for an hour then went back to sleep. I woke up at 12:10 pm in panic. I called the manager immediately and left a message on his cell phone to see if I should bother coming in. I called again on his business line 30 minutes later. I called my friend that worked there who happened to be on vacation. He told me to just go in. I would be 3 hours late. It made no sense. I called 2 more times before I made the trip. He answered and said he was disappointed and how I missed the most important part of the training. Then the phone was disconnected. I heard the “firing” tone in his voice. I called him back 2 or 3 times with no answer. I am convinced he hung up on me.

 

So I went through every possible emotion yesterday and then talked to a friend about it. I really didn’t want to tell anyone. He told me I should just go in on time on Friday to see what would happen. I was convinced I was done. I called another friend that agreed that I should go in. All I had to lose was a long drive. I was going back and forth on it all night. My face got worse. My anxiety got worse. I was determined to go to sleep early and get up early and make the decision then. Yes. I am still awake and still in pain. I didn’t go. My face pain and anxiety made the decision for me. I’m 99% sure I was already fired anyway,

 

I spent the past 2 months fantasizing, planning and setting goals based on the potential money I would have made there. I wanted to invest it in my other projects, pay off bills and save money. Now I’m back to square 1 wondering if I can keep any job between my anxiety, my TM, my Bipolar disorder and apparently a sleeping problem.

 

I really have changed. I admit that I have always judged people that didn’t work for a living. I couldn’t understand people that were unemployed, collecting social security, disability or on welfare. I didn’t understand people that had anxiety disorders, mental illnesses, social problems and even in some cases chronic pain disorders that I can’t see. I understood physical handicaps like blindness, in wheelchairs, etc. Now I’ve become one of the people I used to judge and didn’t understand. I have a day-to-day struggle trying to understand myself. I don’t. I don’t understand my illnesses both physical and mental.

 

I’m not writing this and telling you this for sympathy or to get attention. I write what’s on my mind and post it out of a compulsion. It’s the way I think out loud sometimes. Times like this I hesitate posting it knowing that you may judge me the way I judged others in my position.

 

I was raised with a work ethic believe it or not. I still exercise it everyday by writing and creating and consistently promoting and managing my websites etc. That’s my problem with identifying and relating to my current conditions. My adopted parents raised me to get to work on time and do my job to the best of my abilities. I hear m mother’s voice telling me to work. She has said judgmental things like “I don’t want you to be one of those people that doesn’t work and lives off of the system.” The problem is I agree with her and I think I am fine and then I am not fine. I am not fucking fine.

 

I am in a long process of learning and trying to understand myself and what’s wrong with me and what’s right with me. What are my limitations? What can I work through. I get all kinds of advice bout my diet, my cigarette smoking, lack of exercise, etc. That’s fine. I’m sure all that would help but there is much more going on.

 

I’m not miserable. I have a lot of happy moments. It’s just a struggle in my head and my body at times that I have to deal with.

 

My main concern right now is whether I will be able to handle working a real job or not. This TM can go into remission for 10 years to the rest of my life or it can continue forever. I have a friend that has had over 6 surgeries to treat her TM. My mental problems can be controlled to a point with medication and awareness of it.

 

I have full confidence that my immediate bills will be paid and I can figure out a way to make money on my own without a “job”. I’m just not there yet and I have to keep on keeping on and deal with my issues. That’s it for now I guess. Thanks for reading.

I Don’t Love You

All you need is love. Love is all you need. I wonder about that. No I don’t. I’m not a cynic. It happens. It has happened. It may happen again. I’m talking about romantic love and relationship love. There’s plenty of love amongst my friends and family. Not in the dating. romantic, or relationship department for me in a long time. I almost had it last year but nope. It didn’t happen.

 

I just read a blog written by an optimistic 21-year-old girl talking about her perspective of love. Her boyfriend’s 40-year-old friend says he is too old for love. “Too old for love” I read and re-read. I wonder if that’s what’s happened to me? Is that what I believe? Of course the young girl doesn’t believe it to be true. She believes in love. True love. Love at first sight. Love is forever. Love is all you need. I believed in it too when I was her age and most of my life.

 

I believed it every time I fell in love, lusted, had an obsession or infatuation. Time and time again I would feel that this woman was the one for me. I guess for the time we had together she was the one for me. After going through this over and over again it makes me question what the point is of trying again. Is there one for me? “The one?” Maybe I had several “ones” already and I missed out. Maybe it’s out there. I don’t know. I’m slowly reaching a point where I don’t care. I’m pretty sure that I am there.

 

I look at it like this: I’ve had many girlfriends, relationships affairs and even a marriage. I’ve loved more than most people I know. I’ve also been rejected more than anyone I know. That’s life. If I never have mutual love with a woman again I won’t die. It won’t kill me. Nobody has ever died from lack of love. Maybe if they dwelled on it and gave up on living but physically they haven’t died. You get my point.

 

Maybe, I’m finished with love. Maybe I’ve had my share and it’s time to move on and worry about me. Maybe I should worry about my mental, spiritual, creative and physical health. I’d like to say I don’t give it any thought. Of course I do. I’m just not obsessed with it like I used to be. I’m just not interested right now. I have a lot of things to do and it’s not on the top of my priority list right now.

 

I’ve changed a lot the past 2 years and I’m sure I’ll be changing again. I am finally comfortable with who I am right now. It was slow acceptance but I feel like I am alive despite my new found anti-socialism. I enjoy being alone most of the time. When I don’t enjoy being alone then I go out. Sure, I have anxiety problems among other mental and physical ailments to deal with. I deal with them on a daily basis and move on. I know love won’t help me anyway. If I don’t take care of myself first then I am in no position to love anyway.

 

Who knows I might write about a girl I like or am attracted to next week or even tomorrow but for now love isn’t for me. I’m not for love.

 

I don’t know if I’m too old for love or maybe love is too old for me.

“Dumb Bitches Who Eat Diarrhea Out of the Gutter “

Racism sucks. It’s stupid and even silly. I’ve had my moments of prejudice or judgment but I can’t hate a group for people based on their color or religion. I make a lot of jokes about races, religions etc. Stereotypes. I even make them to the people who fall into the categories. Years ago I worked with a black friend and we were always slinging racist words at each other. Mostly in front of people for shock value. Then we’d go get high after work and hang out. I joke with my Japanese friend. I dated an Indian girl not too long ago and I even made jokes with her. When I make a joke about race or religion I don’t mean it and I usually do it with people that understand that. I just think it’s funny. I don’t believe in it.

 

In June 2010 I posted a video tributing the beauty of Indian women that I happen to find attractive. I find all races attractive and love women for who they are. I used a classic Indian Pop song from 1965 from a movie called Gumnaam called  Jaan Pehechaan Ho by Mohammed Rafi. Great song by the way. Anyway I loved the song and the images and it was an immediate hit. Of course none of my original music or spoken word goes over this well. I had near 1,800 hits by July then my first comment.

 

It said:

“There are no hot women in india. They are all disgusting, stinky, ugly, dumb bitches who eat diarrhea out of the gutter because they have no money.”

 

I responded:

“This video has been up for almost a month and over 1,800 views and this is the only comment I get. Oh brother.”

 

A few months went by and I somehow missed the following comment from someone else.

 

It said:

“go and take a shower u fucken indian bitch !!! the smell of curry is coming out from my screen..”

 

Then 2 days ago I was happy that I got another comment. Then I read it.

 

It said:

“what else u expected when you uploated pics of south Indian witches”

 

I responded:

“31,149 views since June and counting. You helped the count. Thanks.”

 

It’s up to 31, 916 views as of right now. In 2 days over 800 views. Weird. I have this up since June 2010 and I have that many views and I get 3 comments and they are all racist. Geesh.

 

I’ll probably make more of all nationalities and piss off people by loving everyone. Does it make me a hater if I hate those who hate?

 

I Hate Sports

God do I hate sports. It used to be apathy but no matter how hard I try to escape it it’s shoved in my face. In my early childhood I lived with my maternal grandparents and Grandpop used ot watch football and baseball and scream and yell and all that shit and it just annoyed me. I wanted ot watch horror movies and cartoons. I went into my little world and started drawing. I had no interest in sports.

 

As I grew up I gravitated towards people that had no interest in sports. AS much as I could. I tried my hand at 6^th grade track and found it even more boring than other sports even though I was good at it. In High School everyone bugged me about joining the football team and basketball team because I was tall. As far back as I can remember I tried to get out of almost every gym class I could. I had allergies, asthma, and I found many new injuries to fake or I’d “accidentally” forget my gym uniform. I pretty much hated school until college ut I hated sports more. In 8^th grade I didn’t mind the Phillies winning the World Series because I got to go home from school early before gym class. That’s my only good memory of sports.

 

I tried playing street hockey when I was in middle school and it was ok for a few minutes then I lost interest. I would rather hve been drawing or playing guitar. I never liked it.

 

Growing up in South Jersey makes it tough to avoid sports like growing up in any suburb or city in America I can’t avoid the Christmas season. I’ve tried.

 

I live near Philadelphia. The Philadelphia Eagles fans are the second most fanatical. New York is the first. I never understood why people wanted to watch people run around with balls tackling each other in some homo-erotic fashion guised as “macho”. The tea players pat each other on the ass and come in close physical contact with other men. These same men are the first to bash homosexuality. That’s all besides the point. I just have no interest in sports. I’d be fine with it if it wasn’t constantly shoved down my throat.

 

It’s the one thing most men have in common besides liking women. As you know I’d much rather talk about women.

 

Somehow I evaded the issue and didn’t have to deal with it most of my life. I avoided the conversations and didn’t watch the news. Early in life I was too fucked up on drugs and alcohol to care but as I got older it became more and more part of my life whether I wanted it or not. I’m not putting down the sports industry because I love movies and other forms of entertainment but it’s the fanaticism that surrounds sports that bothers me.

 

I’m not into politics or religion either but people aren’t’ always talking about it. I know very few people that scream and clap at the TV when there is a political debate  I do have one friend that does) or a religious sermon. I know quite a few people that get emotionally and physically depressed when the Eagles lose. It affects their entire outlook on life. You can feel the high energy in the area when the Phillies or the Eagles win and the depression in the air when they lose.

 

I’ve wasted a lot of time in my life and I still do but to invest emotional and physical energy into a form of entertainment that I am not physically involved in seems like a bigger waste of time  for me.

 

Again, I’m not putting down the sports industry even though I have a few opinions that aren’t worth mentioning. I just don’t understand the fanaticism that is involved amongst the people I know and live around. I have no common bond with anyone concerning this. I’d rather talk about the weather. How about that cold?