This is going to be very strange............but then again, most of my posts don't make sense.......this is kind of like my dumping grounds for my mind.............if I let all the crap in my head pile up, it might rot my brain.
Do we have a flusher in our brains???? Cuz I've yet to find mine.
anyways..............I have a dream, or have had a dream since I was a child.......and it scares me.
A little white girl is riding a bicycle......there is no audio, just quiet and I see her riding her little bicycle around a plane of white space. The girl's bike collapses and she falls down, and she starts to cry....perhaps she has skinned her knee? At this moment, the room turns red, perhaps it's her blood, I'm not sure exactly why it turns red.
Once the room turns a brilliant red color, a large group of men come in shouting, and yelling things that I do not understand, but I do know that I as a viewer/listener cannot stand the noise. These men don't even notice the little girl crying, and continue to shout out things at each other. Eventually the noise becomes deafening and the room fades to black, I cannot see anything anymore, but the noise is so overwhelming that I wake up.
My interpretation- It's political??? The big wigs don't notice the small problems because they are too busy shouting at each other over things which the average citizen does not understand. Perhaps if politics were a more generalized topic in everyday life now, we would actually understand what the candidates for the election meant in their speeches, or what the congress is voting on.
Idk, again, just my space to dump my mental shit.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
She's Back!!!!!!!
As she itches, and scratches at the nape of her neck, I know that she is high. Knocking on the door, then just barging in screaming my sister's name...................coming 200 miles just to figure out where to stay.
My sister nicole just came back to HDG from almost a year spent in Hebron, MD. It's kinda weird to me, but yeah........she's back, and cracked up just as usual.
How do I help her? I ponder this........................... TBC
My sister nicole just came back to HDG from almost a year spent in Hebron, MD. It's kinda weird to me, but yeah........she's back, and cracked up just as usual.
How do I help her? I ponder this........................... TBC
Sunday, October 12, 2008
F.E.A.R.
F.
F is for faces. There are ten hundred thousand million gagillion faces in the world, yet we only have one. My face is the only reliable thing people have to see
E.
E is for ears, the ways we listen to others, and hear the cries of the helpless, and understand the commands of the wise and poweruful.
A.
A is for answers, things we never get. A proper answer is without thought, it is a reaction only.
R.
R is for reality, which just sucks in general.
Fear is my life
F is for faces. There are ten hundred thousand million gagillion faces in the world, yet we only have one. My face is the only reliable thing people have to see
E.
E is for ears, the ways we listen to others, and hear the cries of the helpless, and understand the commands of the wise and poweruful.
A.
A is for answers, things we never get. A proper answer is without thought, it is a reaction only.
R.
R is for reality, which just sucks in general.
Fear is my life
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Quickie
Gonna be short today.
Just to wrap up my thoughts for the night I realize three things.
One- I sleep too much
Two- I dont sleep enough
Three- I sleep at the wrong times
Just thinking
Just to wrap up my thoughts for the night I realize three things.
One- I sleep too much
Two- I dont sleep enough
Three- I sleep at the wrong times
Just thinking
New Job
I'm leaving WH
I have a new job
Making better money
No retards to mess with, or being accused of being a thief.
I have a new job
Making better money
No retards to mess with, or being accused of being a thief.
New Beginnings Paired With the Same old Crap
I have a new start,
A new outlook
A new philosophy if you will.
Things just aren't what they used to be.
Life was simple in my youth, days of innocence, ignorance, and bliss in that aforementioned.
The best way to stay alive in this world is to adapt and to re-invent yourself
Thus, in the past few weeks, I been doing alot of soul searching. Alot of wandering, meandering into the darkness of my mind, and pushing myself to limits I have never been to.
I cracked.
My faith in life has been demolished, and my reasoning thrown out the window.
My memory fades, and my morals dissolve into thin air.
Even through my new discoveries, and new beginnings, I still deal with the same old crap. I'm depressed, so much that I break down daily and cry myself to sleep, wondering what I did to deserve such horrible treatment in my life.
I still lie awake at night pondering and fighting off the loneliness that I have come to hold as my own. A security blanket, yet cold, and uninviting.
I pick up the bottle and bring it to my lips and suck the liquid down hoping to ease something I can't put my finger on.
A hole in my ear, although filled, it is only filled with that which I may remove. I have enough holes already. My soul leaks out of my mouth when I talk.
My spirit falls from my face in the tears that I cry
My passion rubs into the keyboard out of my pores
I have enough holes, yet I go and pierce my ear, adding another hole to my body. But what did I lose from this hole, nothing!!!
My hole is symbolic to me, as I have yet to figure out what it means. I don't know the answer.
If this confuses you I am sorry, these are merely my thoughts being written down. I am trying to deal with the weight of the world as usual and am falling over and being crushed.
A new outlook
A new philosophy if you will.
Things just aren't what they used to be.
Life was simple in my youth, days of innocence, ignorance, and bliss in that aforementioned.
The best way to stay alive in this world is to adapt and to re-invent yourself
Thus, in the past few weeks, I been doing alot of soul searching. Alot of wandering, meandering into the darkness of my mind, and pushing myself to limits I have never been to.
I cracked.
My faith in life has been demolished, and my reasoning thrown out the window.
My memory fades, and my morals dissolve into thin air.
Even through my new discoveries, and new beginnings, I still deal with the same old crap. I'm depressed, so much that I break down daily and cry myself to sleep, wondering what I did to deserve such horrible treatment in my life.
I still lie awake at night pondering and fighting off the loneliness that I have come to hold as my own. A security blanket, yet cold, and uninviting.
I pick up the bottle and bring it to my lips and suck the liquid down hoping to ease something I can't put my finger on.
A hole in my ear, although filled, it is only filled with that which I may remove. I have enough holes already. My soul leaks out of my mouth when I talk.
My spirit falls from my face in the tears that I cry
My passion rubs into the keyboard out of my pores
I have enough holes, yet I go and pierce my ear, adding another hole to my body. But what did I lose from this hole, nothing!!!
My hole is symbolic to me, as I have yet to figure out what it means. I don't know the answer.
If this confuses you I am sorry, these are merely my thoughts being written down. I am trying to deal with the weight of the world as usual and am falling over and being crushed.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
The world is a stage
Dear World,
You suck. You are filled with heartache, pain, suffering, ignorance, cruelty, abuse, stupidity, and blasphemy in every sense possible. Who would of thought they could be wrapped up in a single person?
His name was Thomas, and I had fallen in love. He treated me kindly and he was beautiful. His soul golden, and shining, yet tarnished deeper, and rusting from the inside out.
It came to be that nothing came of us, and we left it with a kiss. A simple peck on the lips, and no more was said, hardly. He lost hisself back into the underground he once called home. A life lived darker, and more dangerous than I had known.
Too bad it didn't work. But it's alright world, I don't need the drama in my life.
You're a stage old world, and I'm right on there pulling my own.
You suck. You are filled with heartache, pain, suffering, ignorance, cruelty, abuse, stupidity, and blasphemy in every sense possible. Who would of thought they could be wrapped up in a single person?
His name was Thomas, and I had fallen in love. He treated me kindly and he was beautiful. His soul golden, and shining, yet tarnished deeper, and rusting from the inside out.
It came to be that nothing came of us, and we left it with a kiss. A simple peck on the lips, and no more was said, hardly. He lost hisself back into the underground he once called home. A life lived darker, and more dangerous than I had known.
Too bad it didn't work. But it's alright world, I don't need the drama in my life.
You're a stage old world, and I'm right on there pulling my own.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
The Smell of Music
Sitting in the library right now, the smells of body odor, old people, dirty books, and air conditioner invade this nose.
Choruses of men and women, singing a variety of tunes, and melodies flow into my ears.
I am having such a great time listening that I now appreciate music even more.
My mind has also made a new connection...........and this is kind of funny.
Music now has a smell to me, I wll always smell music as this library.
Choruses of men and women, singing a variety of tunes, and melodies flow into my ears.
I am having such a great time listening that I now appreciate music even more.
My mind has also made a new connection...........and this is kind of funny.
Music now has a smell to me, I wll always smell music as this library.
Am I possessed??
The other day, I was minding my own buisness, just playing cards with my friends.
Here are the facts,
It was 3:30 in the morning, a fairly normal time for me and my friends to be out and about, and we were loitering, an illegal act so to speak, outside of McDonalds on the picnic benches.
I went inside of the Waffle House, my job, which is only next door and came across a site I was not ready for.
Low and behold, Matt, the devil in my eyes sat at the counter.
My sister stayed as I left to return to my card game.
Five minutes later I recieved a text message, from my sister saying Matt wanted to come play cards with us. I said as long as he doesn't start trouble.
Funny thing is.............for almost a year, I saw him as the strongest foe, and defining fear factor in my life. But he came back to side weak, shaking, and unsure.
We discussed that we both messed up alot in both our friendship and our relationship.
Now we are friends again, yet now I wait.............what does he mean? I fear my own feelings, and I still fear him.
Does the devil have me the neck?
Here are the facts,
It was 3:30 in the morning, a fairly normal time for me and my friends to be out and about, and we were loitering, an illegal act so to speak, outside of McDonalds on the picnic benches.
I went inside of the Waffle House, my job, which is only next door and came across a site I was not ready for.
Low and behold, Matt, the devil in my eyes sat at the counter.
My sister stayed as I left to return to my card game.
Five minutes later I recieved a text message, from my sister saying Matt wanted to come play cards with us. I said as long as he doesn't start trouble.
Funny thing is.............for almost a year, I saw him as the strongest foe, and defining fear factor in my life. But he came back to side weak, shaking, and unsure.
We discussed that we both messed up alot in both our friendship and our relationship.
Now we are friends again, yet now I wait.............what does he mean? I fear my own feelings, and I still fear him.
Does the devil have me the neck?
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Xob Der
..............................if you know what this is, it is almost as evil as Chuck E Cheese.
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REDBOX
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REDBOX
Cracks in the glass
Everyone looks in the mirror everyday.
The mirror is just a pane of glass that reflects your image back at you, and if your lucky makes you feel like a million bucks.
But if you are like me, and many other people in this world, you look in the mirror and see something you don't like.
This blog is called cracks in the glass because I see different things. I see a broken image in the mirror. Parts of a whole, but no whole to be seen, only different reflections in small pieces seperated by deep veins of empty space.
The cracks in the glass symbolize something for me. They tell me I am not whole. I may feel happy on the outside, but I know I am not complete.
After todays events, which include, watching the fireworks alone, crying my eyes out twice; once because my ex shouted out of a car Faggot, and two because I sat alone, at work watching the fireworks out of a window and through the trees.
Does anyone ever feel the cracks in the mirror?
I think it's part of our human nature. We are emotional beings, and are difficult to control. I let my mind wander at times, and it gets me into trouble.
I think too much, and let too much get to me. Thing is? Everyone else does too.
Crying is normal, even for a grown man. Lonlieness, which is spelled horribly wrong, is just our way of telling us we need companionship.
I probably just stated the obvious, but whether you think so or not, this is more my way to express my thoughts. I just choose to publish these thoughts on the internet for people to try and understand.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go to sleep. This should fill one of the many cracks in the mirror.
another thought.......
When we fill the cracks, why dont they become clear again? The cracks are filled, but they aren't anything more than a cover up. The holes are there, the cracks are still there, they are only covered up.
so will my problems ever go away.
Will I ever forget Matt?
Will I ever get the right amount of sleep?
Will I ever make enough money to move out of my house?
I hate questions..............!
The mirror is just a pane of glass that reflects your image back at you, and if your lucky makes you feel like a million bucks.
But if you are like me, and many other people in this world, you look in the mirror and see something you don't like.
This blog is called cracks in the glass because I see different things. I see a broken image in the mirror. Parts of a whole, but no whole to be seen, only different reflections in small pieces seperated by deep veins of empty space.
The cracks in the glass symbolize something for me. They tell me I am not whole. I may feel happy on the outside, but I know I am not complete.
After todays events, which include, watching the fireworks alone, crying my eyes out twice; once because my ex shouted out of a car Faggot, and two because I sat alone, at work watching the fireworks out of a window and through the trees.
Does anyone ever feel the cracks in the mirror?
I think it's part of our human nature. We are emotional beings, and are difficult to control. I let my mind wander at times, and it gets me into trouble.
I think too much, and let too much get to me. Thing is? Everyone else does too.
Crying is normal, even for a grown man. Lonlieness, which is spelled horribly wrong, is just our way of telling us we need companionship.
I probably just stated the obvious, but whether you think so or not, this is more my way to express my thoughts. I just choose to publish these thoughts on the internet for people to try and understand.
Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go to sleep. This should fill one of the many cracks in the mirror.
another thought.......
When we fill the cracks, why dont they become clear again? The cracks are filled, but they aren't anything more than a cover up. The holes are there, the cracks are still there, they are only covered up.
so will my problems ever go away.
Will I ever forget Matt?
Will I ever get the right amount of sleep?
Will I ever make enough money to move out of my house?
I hate questions..............!
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
We have a problem
I'm back
This lack of writing isn't exactly coming from a block, although call it what you will cuz I just can't seem to express myself anymore, but mainly due the fact that I lost my wi-fi internet I was stealing from the neighbors router.
But beside that point here is the newest thoughts and confessions for the lone wolf.
Joey can be defined in many ways, he can be a a young kangaroo, a coy nickname for a schnauzer, or just another name for Joseph. I define this slightly different.
Joey is opposed to change, but willing to learn. He is stubborn, yet willing to do whatever, whenever. He is indecisive, yet spontaneous often getting himself into trouble with that spontaneity.
My biggest issue though. I am loney. I'm not sure why, but I am.
I surround myself with love, but only find emptiness, and animosity, and coldness, and pain.
I'm starting to write a book.
It's called, I'm in love with a guy, and I don't know why?
Basically, if I spelled that word correctly, it's about my thoughts, my essays, wondering where I came from, what I've become, and who I want to be. How people see me is not what I want them to see. Perhaps as I write I will understand myself, my passions, my longings, and my feelings. Maybe I can evolve as a spiritual being as well.
This lack of writing isn't exactly coming from a block, although call it what you will cuz I just can't seem to express myself anymore, but mainly due the fact that I lost my wi-fi internet I was stealing from the neighbors router.
But beside that point here is the newest thoughts and confessions for the lone wolf.
Joey can be defined in many ways, he can be a a young kangaroo, a coy nickname for a schnauzer, or just another name for Joseph. I define this slightly different.
Joey is opposed to change, but willing to learn. He is stubborn, yet willing to do whatever, whenever. He is indecisive, yet spontaneous often getting himself into trouble with that spontaneity.
My biggest issue though. I am loney. I'm not sure why, but I am.
I surround myself with love, but only find emptiness, and animosity, and coldness, and pain.
I'm starting to write a book.
It's called, I'm in love with a guy, and I don't know why?
Basically, if I spelled that word correctly, it's about my thoughts, my essays, wondering where I came from, what I've become, and who I want to be. How people see me is not what I want them to see. Perhaps as I write I will understand myself, my passions, my longings, and my feelings. Maybe I can evolve as a spiritual being as well.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Chuck Evil Cheese
This post is going to be short
I just want to elighten the idea that Chuck E Cheese is the most evil place on the planet.
I walked in with 22 dollars in cash. I had a bunch of coupons and my friends and I all bought a bunch of pizza's soda's and tokens for like 80 bucks total.
That was great until we started playing the games.............
Have you ever noticed that when you run out of tokens, you want more, and think that those tokens really didn't last too long? Well the truth is, even though the games are only 1 token, the average game lasts about 5 seconds.
So...........................let's do some math here
5 seconds out of 1 minute is 1/12. Thus you can in theory play 12 games in a minute, thus spending 3 dollars in one minute..as each token costs a quarter.
With 100 tokens, you are in theory only playing for a total time frame of about 8 minutes and 20 seconds.
Those 100 tokens aren't cheap either. 25 dollars can buy you dinner for two at a decent restaurant or you spend less than ten minutes in chuck e cheeses for the same price.
So to make a long story short.
Don't take a credit card into chuck e cheese, you will only hurt yourself more.
An hour and a half spent in chuck e cheese. My grand total spent was 78 dollars and 50 cents
I just want to elighten the idea that Chuck E Cheese is the most evil place on the planet.
I walked in with 22 dollars in cash. I had a bunch of coupons and my friends and I all bought a bunch of pizza's soda's and tokens for like 80 bucks total.
That was great until we started playing the games.............
Have you ever noticed that when you run out of tokens, you want more, and think that those tokens really didn't last too long? Well the truth is, even though the games are only 1 token, the average game lasts about 5 seconds.
So...........................let's do some math here
5 seconds out of 1 minute is 1/12. Thus you can in theory play 12 games in a minute, thus spending 3 dollars in one minute..as each token costs a quarter.
With 100 tokens, you are in theory only playing for a total time frame of about 8 minutes and 20 seconds.
Those 100 tokens aren't cheap either. 25 dollars can buy you dinner for two at a decent restaurant or you spend less than ten minutes in chuck e cheeses for the same price.
So to make a long story short.
Don't take a credit card into chuck e cheese, you will only hurt yourself more.
An hour and a half spent in chuck e cheese. My grand total spent was 78 dollars and 50 cents
Monday, June 16, 2008
Back to Normal....I think
So this post should be the beginning of the comeback. I hope to start with my regular posts once more......assuming I don't have to sleep for days at a time.
Let's start at the beginning.
I'm Joe, and I work at Waffle House.........AKA........cesspool of crackheads, and drama.
I love my job only on the days I make money, and as selfish as it seems, I only care about the money in my job right now. Yes, there are people I care about, but my goal in working is to make that money and bank it as soon as I can, rather than to make friends
Perhaps this is the key to success in life.
Do we have to make sacrifices in order to achieve our highest goals? Do we have to cut people, places, and things out of our life in order to thrive?
In my case, I believe this is true for several reasons.
In order for me to make my money at work, I need to shut out everything else, and focus on my customer's needs. Now the fact that 35% of my customers don't tip, or they walk out on their bills either means they are too poor to tip, or they are assholes. Yet, none the less I have to put my mind away for 10 hours a night in order to better serve my customers.
What kind of sacrifices do you make?
Let's start at the beginning.
I'm Joe, and I work at Waffle House.........AKA........cesspool of crackheads, and drama.
I love my job only on the days I make money, and as selfish as it seems, I only care about the money in my job right now. Yes, there are people I care about, but my goal in working is to make that money and bank it as soon as I can, rather than to make friends
Perhaps this is the key to success in life.
Do we have to make sacrifices in order to achieve our highest goals? Do we have to cut people, places, and things out of our life in order to thrive?
In my case, I believe this is true for several reasons.
In order for me to make my money at work, I need to shut out everything else, and focus on my customer's needs. Now the fact that 35% of my customers don't tip, or they walk out on their bills either means they are too poor to tip, or they are assholes. Yet, none the less I have to put my mind away for 10 hours a night in order to better serve my customers.
What kind of sacrifices do you make?
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
14 Hours of Sleep
It has come to my attention now that my body and mind are beginning to shut down. My mind wanders, it roams, it explores, and then gets caught in a bear trap and is thrown to the raptors.
I just got out of a 14 hour coma I shall call it, I didn't hear my phone ring, which is surprising for me, and I slept it completely straight through without waking up for anything.
That sleep has refreshed me for the time being and has made me feel somewhat better. Yet I still think, and ponder, and question. I question things like where I want to be? Who I want? What I want? Do I need to change who I am to have friends?
Simple questions like that, not even a 14 hour coma can kill. These must be questions everyone faces.....
I just got out of a 14 hour coma I shall call it, I didn't hear my phone ring, which is surprising for me, and I slept it completely straight through without waking up for anything.
That sleep has refreshed me for the time being and has made me feel somewhat better. Yet I still think, and ponder, and question. I question things like where I want to be? Who I want? What I want? Do I need to change who I am to have friends?
Simple questions like that, not even a 14 hour coma can kill. These must be questions everyone faces.....
Monday, May 26, 2008
Long time, No Blog
Dear Readers,
I haven't posted in a long time. I know, I've just been busy.
Here are a few updates for a reader who wants to know.
I failed my semester because I chose my job over school. I needed the money and couldn't do both at the same time. Thus, I chose the Waffle House and it's crazy still.
That boy I posted about a while ago, nothing happened, and I really don't care anymore. Just too busy.
My cook and I are BFF's AKA Best Friends Forever. She is as loonie as I am, and we are four tenths of a whole idiot.
Then there is another saga I must begin, I am unsure of alot of things right now. Who I am? What I do? and How much money I make for the amount of hours I work. I have determined three things
I am still gay despite confrontation and animosity from other people, as well as serious general assholeieness from the man I like.
Two, I love my job because I make great money
Three, I hate my job because of stupid people who can't even order a damn waffle.
Serious thoughts.
I am tired of people's crap. Why do I put up with it? Am I sensative? Am I uptight? Am I an asshole? Why do people not like me? Can I do better? Who are my friends? Are they real? Am I real? Am I crazy?
Serious thoughts and true words
Anyone care?
I haven't posted in a long time. I know, I've just been busy.
Here are a few updates for a reader who wants to know.
I failed my semester because I chose my job over school. I needed the money and couldn't do both at the same time. Thus, I chose the Waffle House and it's crazy still.
That boy I posted about a while ago, nothing happened, and I really don't care anymore. Just too busy.
My cook and I are BFF's AKA Best Friends Forever. She is as loonie as I am, and we are four tenths of a whole idiot.
Then there is another saga I must begin, I am unsure of alot of things right now. Who I am? What I do? and How much money I make for the amount of hours I work. I have determined three things
I am still gay despite confrontation and animosity from other people, as well as serious general assholeieness from the man I like.
Two, I love my job because I make great money
Three, I hate my job because of stupid people who can't even order a damn waffle.
Serious thoughts.
I am tired of people's crap. Why do I put up with it? Am I sensative? Am I uptight? Am I an asshole? Why do people not like me? Can I do better? Who are my friends? Are they real? Am I real? Am I crazy?
Serious thoughts and true words
Anyone care?
Monday, May 5, 2008
Waffle House Blues
I sit in the WH once again, and I haven't even worked for two days. I am just sitting here typing in my blog.
I'm not in a good mood, I am stressed. I have grinded out three poems today, so I find that an acomplishment, and I am happy with them too.
I have also learned three things today. Love is a crazy thing, Somebody has a crush on me, and three my step-dad is like an onion, he is good when cooked, but nasty raw.
To translate that onion thing, basically, when he dosen't feel well, he is a dick
I'm not in a good mood, I am stressed. I have grinded out three poems today, so I find that an acomplishment, and I am happy with them too.
I have also learned three things today. Love is a crazy thing, Somebody has a crush on me, and three my step-dad is like an onion, he is good when cooked, but nasty raw.
To translate that onion thing, basically, when he dosen't feel well, he is a dick
Monday, April 28, 2008
Frenzy
So, I'm back
I'm gonna try to make this a fairly important post, and maybe you'll agree with me.
For the past few days, I've been trying to write a great deal of creative non-fiction. I've not only had multiple inspirations, as if by some divine intervention, but I am also in crunch time.
What is kind of awkward though, I only seem to be writing questions. My work is filled with philosophical questions that I just can't answer.
My frenzy of writing has put my mind into overdrive, questions, wondering, pondering, and just generally craziness
I'm gonna try to make this a fairly important post, and maybe you'll agree with me.
For the past few days, I've been trying to write a great deal of creative non-fiction. I've not only had multiple inspirations, as if by some divine intervention, but I am also in crunch time.
What is kind of awkward though, I only seem to be writing questions. My work is filled with philosophical questions that I just can't answer.
My frenzy of writing has put my mind into overdrive, questions, wondering, pondering, and just generally craziness
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Failure
Breaking News
I am failing out of college.
This happens to me, the student who isn't going out and partying. The student who doesn't waste his time drinking, or smoking. This is happening to a student who works 50 Hours a week on the night shift.
I am trying to do the right thing, but have ended up losing?
Why do nice guys finish last?
I am failing out of college.
This happens to me, the student who isn't going out and partying. The student who doesn't waste his time drinking, or smoking. This is happening to a student who works 50 Hours a week on the night shift.
I am trying to do the right thing, but have ended up losing?
Why do nice guys finish last?
Second Chances
I just wanted to put a few words down before I leave for the day.
I wish to thank Dr. Paul Bauer of Cecil College for his help, and for him giving me a second chance with philosophy.
That's all
Anyone wanna say what they are thankful for recently?
I wish to thank Dr. Paul Bauer of Cecil College for his help, and for him giving me a second chance with philosophy.
That's all
Anyone wanna say what they are thankful for recently?
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
The Quest
My journey is one, not unlike yours is. I am longing to make friends, maybe a fan or two, but generally just alive to do my thing and help other people.
Well, why does the nice guy always get things thrown in his face?
It's a very short question, but very complicated. Is there any answer?
This is my quest, I want to follow my heart from now on, and I have been. I am trying to survive this game of life, and my latest quest is for that free man just out of reach. Maybe I'll find a power-up somewhere and things will get better
Well, why does the nice guy always get things thrown in his face?
It's a very short question, but very complicated. Is there any answer?
This is my quest, I want to follow my heart from now on, and I have been. I am trying to survive this game of life, and my latest quest is for that free man just out of reach. Maybe I'll find a power-up somewhere and things will get better
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Hate Mail
It never seems to end. No celebrity am I, nor am I anything super special, but I am (un)fortunate enough to recieve hate mail. The list of people who hate me is apparently very long, although as far as I understand, I have done nothing to them wrong.
Letter # 1
My ex-best friend/partner sends me nasty emails every now and again, just being an ass, and making fun of me because I don't drink or smoke pot. I'm called a baby, weak, and a pussy. I call myself more of a man than you are Matthew. The vomit in my mouth and the tears in my eyes aren't enough of a quench for his never ending quest to hurt me.
Letter # 2
The girl with the burns. I shall call her that. Words like queerboy and Faggot make me feel so good after reading it. That was sarcasm. She was great friends with me and we had plans to just grow old together and be best friends. Yet I became busy with work and she turned on me and started with this shit.
Someone, anyone please give me some stories of your own? I'm so happy to hear I have four readers. I really am, I didn't expect anyone to read this blog. It's more of my online journal I guess. But thanks for all the comments so far, and feel free to communicate with me, give me some reccomendations for your blogs or whatever.
Letter # 1
My ex-best friend/partner sends me nasty emails every now and again, just being an ass, and making fun of me because I don't drink or smoke pot. I'm called a baby, weak, and a pussy. I call myself more of a man than you are Matthew. The vomit in my mouth and the tears in my eyes aren't enough of a quench for his never ending quest to hurt me.
Letter # 2
The girl with the burns. I shall call her that. Words like queerboy and Faggot make me feel so good after reading it. That was sarcasm. She was great friends with me and we had plans to just grow old together and be best friends. Yet I became busy with work and she turned on me and started with this shit.
Someone, anyone please give me some stories of your own? I'm so happy to hear I have four readers. I really am, I didn't expect anyone to read this blog. It's more of my online journal I guess. But thanks for all the comments so far, and feel free to communicate with me, give me some reccomendations for your blogs or whatever.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Drunk Chicks
This post will be fairly short. Just another snippet of insight into what my life is like.
I had to serve yet another table full of obnoxiously wasted 20 somethings, and this crowd was particularly mellow except for this one chick.
I asked her to sign her credit card receipt because she was holding up the line to the cash box and we were moderately busy at the time. In my nature, I asked her once nicely. The woman got an attitude with me, and said "don't rush me, I'll get it when I'm ready." After a few more nice words from me, explaining that she was holding up the line, she pulled the following.
"You know what you piece of shit? This is all you get." It was a dollar and change tip, and normally it wouldn't bother me, but this woman had me steaming already. So in my fairly kind nature I couldn't flip out on this girl and slit her throat like I wanted to, but rather I said, "It's fine, and I'm sorry you have to a bitch Ma'am!" Just the mere fact that I called a complete stranger a bitch made me feel powerful, stronger, and so much happier.
Is there a moment in your life that you just completely lost it on someone?
I had to serve yet another table full of obnoxiously wasted 20 somethings, and this crowd was particularly mellow except for this one chick.
I asked her to sign her credit card receipt because she was holding up the line to the cash box and we were moderately busy at the time. In my nature, I asked her once nicely. The woman got an attitude with me, and said "don't rush me, I'll get it when I'm ready." After a few more nice words from me, explaining that she was holding up the line, she pulled the following.
"You know what you piece of shit? This is all you get." It was a dollar and change tip, and normally it wouldn't bother me, but this woman had me steaming already. So in my fairly kind nature I couldn't flip out on this girl and slit her throat like I wanted to, but rather I said, "It's fine, and I'm sorry you have to a bitch Ma'am!" Just the mere fact that I called a complete stranger a bitch made me feel powerful, stronger, and so much happier.
Is there a moment in your life that you just completely lost it on someone?
Thursday, April 17, 2008
The Booger Mosaic
I have written an essay called, The Booger Mosaic. I don't really like it, but I find it powerful in that I ask myself, "where did my innocence go?"
Did I lose my childhood through some traumatic event? Was it just a natural cause? Did televised and internet media destroy the innocence of my youth?
I have no clue how to post a link to my essay so just let me know if your curious and I'll send you a copy.
Did I lose my childhood through some traumatic event? Was it just a natural cause? Did televised and internet media destroy the innocence of my youth?
I have no clue how to post a link to my essay so just let me know if your curious and I'll send you a copy.
Mass
I am not a catholic. But I have found myself fascinated as I watch the mass this morning in Washington D.C. Nobody in my family is catholic, and I most certainly have no plans to convert after watching this.
Catholicism in my opinion is a cult, and one of the worst kind. It is an epidemic, they frown upon non-catholics, are non welcoming to those who wish to come to their churches, and they are far too ritualistic for my liking. Anyone religion where you speak foreign languages to pray, and wave smoke lanterns, and pray to idols besides god is not right in my opinion.
My sister is a witch. She follows the religion of Wicca, and compared to this mass, her rituals are normal. There are no sacrifices, or blood letting. In Wicca, there are no chants, there is consumption of bread/wine, which in my opinion is a stupid ritual anyways.
But what I find most humerous, is that despite Catholics being the scratch that....
This news caster woman just explained that what just happened was the most powerful moment in mass. The pope babbled in his tongue, and then he hugged the men around him. This is supposed to symbolize The Last Supper, and it is just wrong. We should not re-enact the suffering of Jesus. He did his thing for a purpose. He gave his life to save mankind. Yes, it is this beautiful moment, but is it necessary?
Here is my view, prayer is prayer, anytime, anywhere, god will do his best to listen. Try to practice in good faith...........
Now the crowd is being handed tickets to go up and recieve the body by Pope Benedict XVI
This is just weird to me, but I cant look away
Someone talk to me!!!
Catholicism in my opinion is a cult, and one of the worst kind. It is an epidemic, they frown upon non-catholics, are non welcoming to those who wish to come to their churches, and they are far too ritualistic for my liking. Anyone religion where you speak foreign languages to pray, and wave smoke lanterns, and pray to idols besides god is not right in my opinion.
My sister is a witch. She follows the religion of Wicca, and compared to this mass, her rituals are normal. There are no sacrifices, or blood letting. In Wicca, there are no chants, there is consumption of bread/wine, which in my opinion is a stupid ritual anyways.
But what I find most humerous, is that despite Catholics being the scratch that....
This news caster woman just explained that what just happened was the most powerful moment in mass. The pope babbled in his tongue, and then he hugged the men around him. This is supposed to symbolize The Last Supper, and it is just wrong. We should not re-enact the suffering of Jesus. He did his thing for a purpose. He gave his life to save mankind. Yes, it is this beautiful moment, but is it necessary?
Here is my view, prayer is prayer, anytime, anywhere, god will do his best to listen. Try to practice in good faith...........
Now the crowd is being handed tickets to go up and recieve the body by Pope Benedict XVI
This is just weird to me, but I cant look away
Someone talk to me!!!
Monday, April 14, 2008
Change of Plans
I would love to hear your opinions on this.
My day has been so messed up that I am ready to enter the 5th floor, not literally, but almost. First thing to re-work my plans: my step-dad stayed home today. That being so, I have to avoid home until he goes to sleep just so I don't have to deal with his crap.
Second major screw-ball was my creative writing class being cancelled. This meant I would have to fill an hour and a half of time. With literally no friends, no place to go, and $500 dollars, naturally I went shopping.
Three- I went shopping and didn't buy a single thing.
Has anyone had a day like this?
If so, drop me a comment and tell me about it.
My day has been so messed up that I am ready to enter the 5th floor, not literally, but almost. First thing to re-work my plans: my step-dad stayed home today. That being so, I have to avoid home until he goes to sleep just so I don't have to deal with his crap.
Second major screw-ball was my creative writing class being cancelled. This meant I would have to fill an hour and a half of time. With literally no friends, no place to go, and $500 dollars, naturally I went shopping.
Three- I went shopping and didn't buy a single thing.
Has anyone had a day like this?
If so, drop me a comment and tell me about it.
Migraines and Publications
The title is self explanatory
I'm not writing right now because I have a migraine. I slept all day, and have been up all night, now my head hurts.
However, I have to have a piece sent off to be reviewed by this afternoon. It most likely will not happen.
I'm not writing right now because I have a migraine. I slept all day, and have been up all night, now my head hurts.
However, I have to have a piece sent off to be reviewed by this afternoon. It most likely will not happen.
Sunday, April 13, 2008
Blogging is very relaxing. It makes me feel good, and it is slightly mortifying at the same time. I could be out there writing the next great american novel or whatever, yet I sit here, you don't want to know where I'm at, writing silly little things like this for the whole world to see. I am confessing some of my deepest darkest thoughts on here, not exactly, but I think you get the picture.
So I do believe that honesty is the best policy, and I am going to confess a few things to you now. I have changed my blog name because I think it is catchier, smarter, and I just overall like it better. The full truth is, because that is who I am. I am Joe Johnson, the lone wolf.
My first confession is that I recently dyed my hair, super ultra bleach blond. Had I known before I did it, that it would turn out this color, I wouldn't have done it. I just wanted it to be a bit lighter. But the result was absolutley amazing, and I am loving it 100% now.
Number Two, I posted on here a few weeks ago about the kid I am confused about. He gave me a hug the other day, as well as some other employees, but it was one step closer right?
Three: I love, yet completely hate my job. When crazy, and I mean literally crazy, as in 5th floor crazy, black ladies, as well as white men come into my Waffle House, Yes, I said my Waffle House because I practically run that place, the crazies just go off. Last night, this woman came in and said, "my mind aint right." The truth being she has just left Harford Memorial Hospital, of all things, on Dinner release???? What kind of fucked up hospital lets patients swearing to kill people out to go find dinner?
Four: I wish Andi luck with her cat
I'm hungry as I haven't eaten since early this morning, I will now go eat. Thanks guys............Joe
So I do believe that honesty is the best policy, and I am going to confess a few things to you now. I have changed my blog name because I think it is catchier, smarter, and I just overall like it better. The full truth is, because that is who I am. I am Joe Johnson, the lone wolf.
My first confession is that I recently dyed my hair, super ultra bleach blond. Had I known before I did it, that it would turn out this color, I wouldn't have done it. I just wanted it to be a bit lighter. But the result was absolutley amazing, and I am loving it 100% now.
Number Two, I posted on here a few weeks ago about the kid I am confused about. He gave me a hug the other day, as well as some other employees, but it was one step closer right?
Three: I love, yet completely hate my job. When crazy, and I mean literally crazy, as in 5th floor crazy, black ladies, as well as white men come into my Waffle House, Yes, I said my Waffle House because I practically run that place, the crazies just go off. Last night, this woman came in and said, "my mind aint right." The truth being she has just left Harford Memorial Hospital, of all things, on Dinner release???? What kind of fucked up hospital lets patients swearing to kill people out to go find dinner?
Four: I wish Andi luck with her cat
I'm hungry as I haven't eaten since early this morning, I will now go eat. Thanks guys............Joe
Thursday, April 10, 2008
The lone wolf
This sucks
My creative writing teacher, as well as many authors, as well as my inner spirit have all told me the truth many times, yet I refuse to accept it.
I am alone in this world. There is nobody out there to hold my hand, there is nobody there to cry on their shoulder, and certainly nobody who will genuinly listen to me.
I feel good though, now at least I know I am different. I may be alone in the universe, but I am making it just fine. I hate being alone, nobody wants to be alone, and in all honesty, lonliness sucks.
Andi Cumbo who is this amazing teacher of mine told me a story about a defining moment in her life being just sitting in her closet with her cat, a carton of yogurt, and a can of cheese whiz.
My story is, I have nowhere to go except my job, I have no friends, yet I feel perfectly fine, albeit in a depressed, semi-suicidal kind of mood. Don't get me wrong, I will never stoop so low as to kill myself, but I think that perhaps people who do that feel this way. They reach a point where they feel nothing, and find pain as a way to feel something.
This is why I write. As some woman said, and this is paraphrased "I write because it's like I'm talking to someone." You guys who read my blog are someone to talk to."
In other news, I am alive, I have no friends, my sister is coming home, Benji the demon slaying Jesus man has left me alone, I met a wanderer, ran him out of the restaurant after 4 hours of his insistent conversation which was nice, but he kept falling asleep. I've been put-putting twice in the past two weeks, and I think I've completely given up on love.
This has been my daily rant, and thank you for reading.
My creative writing teacher, as well as many authors, as well as my inner spirit have all told me the truth many times, yet I refuse to accept it.
I am alone in this world. There is nobody out there to hold my hand, there is nobody there to cry on their shoulder, and certainly nobody who will genuinly listen to me.
I feel good though, now at least I know I am different. I may be alone in the universe, but I am making it just fine. I hate being alone, nobody wants to be alone, and in all honesty, lonliness sucks.
Andi Cumbo who is this amazing teacher of mine told me a story about a defining moment in her life being just sitting in her closet with her cat, a carton of yogurt, and a can of cheese whiz.
My story is, I have nowhere to go except my job, I have no friends, yet I feel perfectly fine, albeit in a depressed, semi-suicidal kind of mood. Don't get me wrong, I will never stoop so low as to kill myself, but I think that perhaps people who do that feel this way. They reach a point where they feel nothing, and find pain as a way to feel something.
This is why I write. As some woman said, and this is paraphrased "I write because it's like I'm talking to someone." You guys who read my blog are someone to talk to."
In other news, I am alive, I have no friends, my sister is coming home, Benji the demon slaying Jesus man has left me alone, I met a wanderer, ran him out of the restaurant after 4 hours of his insistent conversation which was nice, but he kept falling asleep. I've been put-putting twice in the past two weeks, and I think I've completely given up on love.
This has been my daily rant, and thank you for reading.
Monday, April 7, 2008
Revising Life
I will never be perfect.
There will always be someone out there who will be smarter than me, better looking, and just overall better than me.
This asshole needs to die in my opinion, but so be it.
I'm trying to get my life back in order; making revisions to this rough draft I have already drawn up.
My question.................Is it too late?
There will always be the story of my life, I write it everyday and I will forever. The question is, can I go back and revise what is already done??
I'll come back to this
There will always be someone out there who will be smarter than me, better looking, and just overall better than me.
This asshole needs to die in my opinion, but so be it.
I'm trying to get my life back in order; making revisions to this rough draft I have already drawn up.
My question.................Is it too late?
There will always be the story of my life, I write it everyday and I will forever. The question is, can I go back and revise what is already done??
I'll come back to this
Friday, April 4, 2008
Sloshies and Poodles
Thursday Night into Friday morning and it's the first week of April.
Again the scene is set in Waffle House, nothing less.
The main event tonight is Pop-Pop or whomever he is, just some crazy old man who we love to death. He shits all over our bathroom, tells us stupid jokes; some are actually worth repeating, hence the title kind of, and he even did some impressions for us with his hat.
The old man has something going on in his head. Little men must be talking to him from the raindrops, kind of like Horton...... but anyways; this man is a must see at the waffle house
Back to the details, the piece de la resistance de la jour, or best of the day was this. "If you've got two shoes, and one sock, what do you need?"
I thought about it for a minute, because I really didn't care all that much until the old man hit me. Nothing hard, but he socked my shoulder lightly and I couldn't help but smile.
Oh and there's also this woman named brenda, she is like shrek. But she's a waitress here and wont be in until later this morning
I also found out tonight that Jesus man, or Benji, as I have found out, is my cook's cousin, slay's demons, and is crazy.
Again the scene is set in Waffle House, nothing less.
The main event tonight is Pop-Pop or whomever he is, just some crazy old man who we love to death. He shits all over our bathroom, tells us stupid jokes; some are actually worth repeating, hence the title kind of, and he even did some impressions for us with his hat.
The old man has something going on in his head. Little men must be talking to him from the raindrops, kind of like Horton...... but anyways; this man is a must see at the waffle house
Back to the details, the piece de la resistance de la jour, or best of the day was this. "If you've got two shoes, and one sock, what do you need?"
I thought about it for a minute, because I really didn't care all that much until the old man hit me. Nothing hard, but he socked my shoulder lightly and I couldn't help but smile.
Oh and there's also this woman named brenda, she is like shrek. But she's a waitress here and wont be in until later this morning
I also found out tonight that Jesus man, or Benji, as I have found out, is my cook's cousin, slay's demons, and is crazy.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Oreo's and Milk-Breakfast of a Champ
Breakfast- 10 Oreo Cookies and a big glass of milk
Lunch- Most likely Waffle House or McDonalds
Dinner- Stromboli/Pizza/ Waffle House
4th Meal- Waffle House/Eggs
Trying to eat healthy is impossible for me. I am healthy, happy (for the most part), and in pretty good shape, but doesn't mean I can't eat healthier. I probably have the cholesterol of a 50 year old southern boy. I love Butter, Chicken Nuggets, and Oreo's
The saga shall continue. At least I have taken the step to track what I eat and how often
Lunch- Most likely Waffle House or McDonalds
Dinner- Stromboli/Pizza/ Waffle House
4th Meal- Waffle House/Eggs
Trying to eat healthy is impossible for me. I am healthy, happy (for the most part), and in pretty good shape, but doesn't mean I can't eat healthier. I probably have the cholesterol of a 50 year old southern boy. I love Butter, Chicken Nuggets, and Oreo's
The saga shall continue. At least I have taken the step to track what I eat and how often
Hope is a nice thing to have
It took me 18 years to finally realize that generally I am not liked, will never be liked, and don't need to be. I am not writing to be liked, I don't sing to be liked, I don't go to church to be liked.
These are my life, I write, I sing, I live.
Only one person has read this blog. They were kind enough to comment, and I appreciate that greatly. She even linked me to her page. Regardless, I am content to see my word on the page whether it be viewed or not.
These last few posts have been kinda short. I haven't had alot of detailed events lately. Just alot of jumbled mess. But hope for the better and stranger keeps me going
Peace
Pasha
These are my life, I write, I sing, I live.
Only one person has read this blog. They were kind enough to comment, and I appreciate that greatly. She even linked me to her page. Regardless, I am content to see my word on the page whether it be viewed or not.
These last few posts have been kinda short. I haven't had alot of detailed events lately. Just alot of jumbled mess. But hope for the better and stranger keeps me going
Peace
Pasha
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
The Virgin Jessica
My sister, Jessica, has just recently left her job, her apartment, her family, her friends, and her obligations to move to Virgina with a customer of hers that she is seeing.
At 22 years of age, she has ever right to make that decision, but now this is what I am left with.
I must:
Pack up all of her belongings
Explain to our family what happened
Explain to her boss/landlord what happened
Take over her lease so that she doesn't get into a lawsuit
Explain to my parents why I have to move out
Figure out how to make an extra 500 dollars a month
Life is a bitch, but I love it so
At 22 years of age, she has ever right to make that decision, but now this is what I am left with.
I must:
Pack up all of her belongings
Explain to our family what happened
Explain to her boss/landlord what happened
Take over her lease so that she doesn't get into a lawsuit
Explain to my parents why I have to move out
Figure out how to make an extra 500 dollars a month
Life is a bitch, but I love it so
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Is there some sort of pattern?
This is how screwed up I am. For one, I am Gay. Two, I fall for straight boys in hopes that I can turn them gay.....already have once before so I know it's possible. Three, this one boy in particular isn't particularly anything attractive. Four, I can't stop thinking about him.
I will not say his name but I work with him, and alot of my fellow employees don't like him. In fact he is my manager's nephew which really complicates things. This boy likes the attention I give him, the flirtiness without being obvious I hope, and he is very friendly and chit-chatty with me.
I've been through this before and the kid ended up being a self-absorbed prick who turned into a druggie and a drunk. This one isn't like that. He is smart, funny, fun to be around, and he has this personality that just attracts me to him.
Ah, life sucks don't it. We can't have what we want, and I really don't wanna mess up our friendship by turning things up a notch. This is a little weird I guess?
I will not say his name but I work with him, and alot of my fellow employees don't like him. In fact he is my manager's nephew which really complicates things. This boy likes the attention I give him, the flirtiness without being obvious I hope, and he is very friendly and chit-chatty with me.
I've been through this before and the kid ended up being a self-absorbed prick who turned into a druggie and a drunk. This one isn't like that. He is smart, funny, fun to be around, and he has this personality that just attracts me to him.
Ah, life sucks don't it. We can't have what we want, and I really don't wanna mess up our friendship by turning things up a notch. This is a little weird I guess?
Monday, March 31, 2008
Waffle House the Musical
I have been inspired to write the next great musical. Well actually I've been trying to do this for the past two years, and I do have several nice little piano numbers under my belt, but that is beside the point.
My job just never ceases to amaze me. The Waffle House is the only place I know that has a jukebox full of original tunes about Hashbrowns, and Cheeseburgers, and Raisin Toast. Well, I've been thinking, which at times can be a very scary thing for I am the King of really bad ideas; my thoughts culminated in Waffle House the Musical.
Here is the list of songs I have started writing
Hello(prologue)
Four Top
Running out of Biscuits
Ballad of the Coffee Pots
Team Handwash
Midnight
Bar Rush
Sidework (Act one finale) ****(This will be the showstopper for the ages)
I don't have anything quite else quite yet. I haven't been able to sit down and write quite yet, but I have some tunes in my head, and some lyrics too. I can't wait to start.
I Love My Job
My job just never ceases to amaze me. The Waffle House is the only place I know that has a jukebox full of original tunes about Hashbrowns, and Cheeseburgers, and Raisin Toast. Well, I've been thinking, which at times can be a very scary thing for I am the King of really bad ideas; my thoughts culminated in Waffle House the Musical.
Here is the list of songs I have started writing
Hello(prologue)
Four Top
Running out of Biscuits
Ballad of the Coffee Pots
Team Handwash
Midnight
Bar Rush
Sidework (Act one finale) ****(This will be the showstopper for the ages)
I don't have anything quite else quite yet. I haven't been able to sit down and write quite yet, but I have some tunes in my head, and some lyrics too. I can't wait to start.
I Love My Job
Friday, March 28, 2008
Folsom Prison Waffles
Once more today's writing come straight out of my crazy job. Night shift is filled with the goonies, and loonies that make my soul happy, and my pocket too. The point of the matter is, last night we had once exceptional customer whom brought us the most joy we have had in quite a long time.
Don, or Jimmy, or Mr. dude, he gave us multiple names, came into the waffle house about 3:30 in the morning, and brought with him the personality of twelve drunks. This man sang to us, he danced with us, and he even broke several rules that we had to ask him to refrain from.
To begin with he came running in and sat in the middle booth and just started giggling. I asked him if he wanted a minute to look at the menu and he said that would be awesome. So I went and got him his orange juice, and he began to sing about how he loves orange juice. He raised his glass in the air and sang hallelujah to his OJ. For several minutes he just sat rambling on about his OJ and not even looking at the menu. After he ordered, he began to tell us about the fight between Frank Sinatra, and Harry Connick Jr. the other day. Apparently they had been staying Michael Buble and Harry caught Michael sleeping with Frankie. I don't even know where he was coming from, but it was quite funny.
After chanting about Maple and Flapstacks...AKA waffles with syrup, he chose to put on some Johnny Cash on the Jukebox, and sang and danced for us. Ten minutes later he passed out in our booth, it was disturbing, so I called the cook over and he woke back up. He went outside to smoke, and when I went out to check on him a few minutes later, he was laying on the ground with his eyes rolled back in his head. I asked loudly if he was okay, and he said yes.
He refused to let us call him a cab, and after leaving both the cook and I 5 dollars each, he went on his drunken way. I hope Don or Jimmy, or whoever he is, comes back tonight
Don, or Jimmy, or Mr. dude, he gave us multiple names, came into the waffle house about 3:30 in the morning, and brought with him the personality of twelve drunks. This man sang to us, he danced with us, and he even broke several rules that we had to ask him to refrain from.
To begin with he came running in and sat in the middle booth and just started giggling. I asked him if he wanted a minute to look at the menu and he said that would be awesome. So I went and got him his orange juice, and he began to sing about how he loves orange juice. He raised his glass in the air and sang hallelujah to his OJ. For several minutes he just sat rambling on about his OJ and not even looking at the menu. After he ordered, he began to tell us about the fight between Frank Sinatra, and Harry Connick Jr. the other day. Apparently they had been staying Michael Buble and Harry caught Michael sleeping with Frankie. I don't even know where he was coming from, but it was quite funny.
After chanting about Maple and Flapstacks...AKA waffles with syrup, he chose to put on some Johnny Cash on the Jukebox, and sang and danced for us. Ten minutes later he passed out in our booth, it was disturbing, so I called the cook over and he woke back up. He went outside to smoke, and when I went out to check on him a few minutes later, he was laying on the ground with his eyes rolled back in his head. I asked loudly if he was okay, and he said yes.
He refused to let us call him a cab, and after leaving both the cook and I 5 dollars each, he went on his drunken way. I hope Don or Jimmy, or whoever he is, comes back tonight
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Jesus was found in the laundry
Very strange title, yes it is, but in all honesty.....Apparently Jesus was found in some man's laundry. The story goes like this.
Yesterday evening I was doing my sister's laundry at the laundromat or however you spell that evil word, and I saw this poster talking about how Jesus has been found and he isn't coming back. Of course being a spiritual perosn but not directly religous I was intrigued by that and had to tear off the little strip on the bottom of the flyer and call the number. BIG MISTAKE!!!!
I took the number to Waffle House where I work and my friend Shannon, Morgan and I all called this man asking about his findings. He wouldn't tell us over the phone so I set up a time to meet him at McDonalds for a bible study. The silly things is, I actually went. This man could have been a serial rapist, a killer, or just a babbling fool. but the good things is he wasn't at least not in my opinion.
Upon his arrival at McDonalds he questioned me to make sure I was serious and I just said to him I wanted to know more about his sign. More than anything I was just bored and wanted something to do, so I found about Jesus's return. Basically stated, he said that everything in the bible has aleady happened, and is never going to happen again, and it's all a big joke. I guess?
Hmm, well he throughly ocnfused even though it's all there in the scriptures. (Matthew: 24, 1-19) It's kinda neat. But now he has my phone number, my friend's cell phone number, knows the city I live in, my full name, and is expecting me to come to his church on sunday morning. HAHAHAHAHAH. HELL NO!
I don't have a problem with church, only strange religions that believe Jesus is a fake and isn't coming back. This includes ones who advertise/recruit/whatever word you wanna call it.
The good news is, I still had time to finish the laundry and fold it before 10PM.
Yesterday evening I was doing my sister's laundry at the laundromat or however you spell that evil word, and I saw this poster talking about how Jesus has been found and he isn't coming back. Of course being a spiritual perosn but not directly religous I was intrigued by that and had to tear off the little strip on the bottom of the flyer and call the number. BIG MISTAKE!!!!
I took the number to Waffle House where I work and my friend Shannon, Morgan and I all called this man asking about his findings. He wouldn't tell us over the phone so I set up a time to meet him at McDonalds for a bible study. The silly things is, I actually went. This man could have been a serial rapist, a killer, or just a babbling fool. but the good things is he wasn't at least not in my opinion.
Upon his arrival at McDonalds he questioned me to make sure I was serious and I just said to him I wanted to know more about his sign. More than anything I was just bored and wanted something to do, so I found about Jesus's return. Basically stated, he said that everything in the bible has aleady happened, and is never going to happen again, and it's all a big joke. I guess?
Hmm, well he throughly ocnfused even though it's all there in the scriptures. (Matthew: 24, 1-19) It's kinda neat. But now he has my phone number, my friend's cell phone number, knows the city I live in, my full name, and is expecting me to come to his church on sunday morning. HAHAHAHAHAH. HELL NO!
I don't have a problem with church, only strange religions that believe Jesus is a fake and isn't coming back. This includes ones who advertise/recruit/whatever word you wanna call it.
The good news is, I still had time to finish the laundry and fold it before 10PM.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Asian Waffles taste good with Thousand Island
Working at Waffle House, especially the night shift, is insane. It takes a seriously fucked up individual to survive a havre de grace night shift, and working with the people I do makes me want to pour hot sauce into my eyes, but I don't like that so I haven't yet.
Tonight, or this morning or whatever it is has been particularly boring, except for the fact that at this moment I am listening to my cook yelling at some of our regulars. This is the routine, I sit and do my thing, she yells and screams at the customers and usually walks out with more tips than I do, even though she isn't supposed to.
There were a group of asians in, and they didn't speak English. Waffle House does not sell fish, nor do they discriminate based on race, ethnicity or any of that other bull, but we do. Or maybe Crystal and I do. I'm not racist, but I am opposed to the idea's of silly asian people trying to order salad sauce, and other strange, un-waffly items.
This blog has become my new place to kvetch, so get used to it, I'll try not to play too rough
Monday, March 24, 2008
The Philosophy of Paychecks
Hello? Okay, so I'm typing on here again. This is my blog and so far nobody has read it but I'm telling you, or me rather that this is going to hold some good stuff. Real honest stuff. I promise it wont be all bitching and kvetching.
Okay, so today I got my paycheck, this happens every monday so maybe it will be a recurring theme in my blog; this is one of the worst days of my week usually when it should be the best. Anyways, back to the blog......
My pay check from Waffle House is usually about a hundred dollars because I am a server and only make $3.08 per hour to start with anyways. But my check was only $80 dollars today and I went off. My boss is one of those types that you don't want to hate. He is fun, funny, and just an overall cool guy until it comes to money. Do not ask him for overtime, he will speak about his philosophy. "NO" is his philosophy; similar to the one used in the Charlie Brown musical....Random I know sorry
But here's the deal. I was looking at my pay stub because I knew things weren't how they should be. It turns out, my boss has been adjusting my clock times, not giving me minimum wage when he should be and stealing my credit card tips. Now, this may seem like your average boss to you; remind me to stop using that pronoun because most likely this will just be kind of like a diary and no one will read it, but who knows. Back on the topic, I asked him why I kept getting clocked out at 7:00Am when I'm usually working til at least 7:15AM, thos extra fifteen minutes a day add up to another hour or so on my check and that three dollars means more money to me, which I need. He even clocked me out at 6:00AM one day, when I worked until 7:30AM. I hate him.
But just another day......
Okay, so today I got my paycheck, this happens every monday so maybe it will be a recurring theme in my blog; this is one of the worst days of my week usually when it should be the best. Anyways, back to the blog......
My pay check from Waffle House is usually about a hundred dollars because I am a server and only make $3.08 per hour to start with anyways. But my check was only $80 dollars today and I went off. My boss is one of those types that you don't want to hate. He is fun, funny, and just an overall cool guy until it comes to money. Do not ask him for overtime, he will speak about his philosophy. "NO" is his philosophy; similar to the one used in the Charlie Brown musical....Random I know sorry
But here's the deal. I was looking at my pay stub because I knew things weren't how they should be. It turns out, my boss has been adjusting my clock times, not giving me minimum wage when he should be and stealing my credit card tips. Now, this may seem like your average boss to you; remind me to stop using that pronoun because most likely this will just be kind of like a diary and no one will read it, but who knows. Back on the topic, I asked him why I kept getting clocked out at 7:00Am when I'm usually working til at least 7:15AM, thos extra fifteen minutes a day add up to another hour or so on my check and that three dollars means more money to me, which I need. He even clocked me out at 6:00AM one day, when I worked until 7:30AM. I hate him.
But just another day......
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Easter Sunday-Waffle House Style
So, This being my first blog, and it being Easter, and the state of mind I am in at this moment; that being nothing short of clinically insane, have decided to create Double J Day by Day.
My name is Joe Johnson, and I am 18 years old. However the hell I survived this long is a feat in itself, but it's just another day for me. The date is March 23, 2008; Easter Sunday, and I am sitting in Waffle House writing this blog instead of spending time with family. It's no big deal, I could be with them, or rather sitting in the same house as them but be ignored and shunned for the pure sake that I am the step-son.
The story goes like this, and it is this with every holiday. My mother, my step-dad and I go to his mother's house and eat dinner. My step-Grandmother is a very nice lady and I love her to death but things just aren't right. There are spots at the dinner table for the 6 year old, spots for the babies too, but not for me. I get the exclusive pleasure of sitting alone at the kitchen table. Now tell me, do you think that as something fun for me. I had my fill of it Christmas Eve when everyone was laughing and having a good time, while I sat alone, without anyone to eat with, to talk to, and my mom had the nerve to ask me, "What's wrong?"
18 years of life is more than alot of people think it is. I have had my ups and downs, and road bumps; I have taken a major nose dive once or twice, but it's all good. This year is better......kind of.
I am sitting in Waffle House, my job. It isn't too busy and I wish I was working so that I didn't have to go home to see my family. My friends are here, people who like me and want to spend time with me....I think. But yeah, I can say, that Easter in the waffle house is worth every bad holiday before hand. Hell, I get to blog in here, something I couldn't do at the family's place.
Thanks
Joe Johnson
My name is Joe Johnson, and I am 18 years old. However the hell I survived this long is a feat in itself, but it's just another day for me. The date is March 23, 2008; Easter Sunday, and I am sitting in Waffle House writing this blog instead of spending time with family. It's no big deal, I could be with them, or rather sitting in the same house as them but be ignored and shunned for the pure sake that I am the step-son.
The story goes like this, and it is this with every holiday. My mother, my step-dad and I go to his mother's house and eat dinner. My step-Grandmother is a very nice lady and I love her to death but things just aren't right. There are spots at the dinner table for the 6 year old, spots for the babies too, but not for me. I get the exclusive pleasure of sitting alone at the kitchen table. Now tell me, do you think that as something fun for me. I had my fill of it Christmas Eve when everyone was laughing and having a good time, while I sat alone, without anyone to eat with, to talk to, and my mom had the nerve to ask me, "What's wrong?"
18 years of life is more than alot of people think it is. I have had my ups and downs, and road bumps; I have taken a major nose dive once or twice, but it's all good. This year is better......kind of.
I am sitting in Waffle House, my job. It isn't too busy and I wish I was working so that I didn't have to go home to see my family. My friends are here, people who like me and want to spend time with me....I think. But yeah, I can say, that Easter in the waffle house is worth every bad holiday before hand. Hell, I get to blog in here, something I couldn't do at the family's place.
Thanks
Joe Johnson
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