quickie blog

This is an attempt to write something without over thinking it and really just an excuse to write. I've got ideas for stories in my head one I've been incubating for years and every so often I think of something else for it and then get excited about it for a little bit but every time I've ever tried to 'put pen to paper' it goes horrifically wrong and I usually don't get past the first paragraph before I've given up. So this is going to be a wham, bam, thank you mam, off the cuff , free flowing blog. I listen to lots of different types of music, my main stay, the one I always come back to is country. I like that it's about life as I know it and that it can be funny or serious and occasionally deep but mainly I like it because it's easy to sing along to. The last few days however I've been in a pop mood listening to Rhianna, 'sticks and stones may break my bones but chains and whips they excite me' when I heard that a part of me was like whoa! Rhianna, tmi,tmi and part of me was like yeah, you go girl. Bruno Mars, 'I'd catch a grenade for ya', Keisha, 'don't mess with us, got Jesus on our necklaces' yes that's really a line, and Katy (thank god for her)Perry, 'you make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream'. At first I wasn't all that crazy about that song but then it reminded me of Rain and me and I started liking it, people often tell us we still act like teenagers. I think it's because we still really like each others company. We still joke and pick and we still have the hots for each other, that helps too. I started on the pop fix after coming off of about a week of metal. I was jamming out to Metallica as much as possible for a while there. It's great music for working out to, very testosteroney (wow, imagine spell check not liking it when you add a y to a word to try and make it an adjective) with that thick bass line, thump, thump, thump. Kinda primal and kick-ass in a UFC kinda way. But while it's great for the gym I find that's it's not so great to listen to before bed are really before work, for me anyway. The week I was really into it I was ill most nights at work and the night I switched to the dance/club stuff I stopped being so damn hard to get along with. I downloaded a book today on my kinle, which I'm still loving btw, called Shit My Dad Says it's the book the t.v. show is based off of, I've not seen the show yet, I need to dvr it. But while waiting for my wife in Target one day I leafed through it and decided I needed to read it, it looks hilarious. Of course I'm already reading 3 books so I may not get to it right away. Anyway the book is based on a twitter (I don't know what you call it on twitter, page? profile?, I'm a real twit when it comes to twitter (har,har)) will go with account that started with a guy quite literally twitting shit his dad said. So let's recap, the show based on the book based on the twitter account based on a guy who moved back in with his dad. Got it? Good. I said all that to say in the opening pages he (the writer) says he was once mortified by his dad but now realizes that his dad is the least passive-aggressive person he knows and it made me wish I could be that way because I'm one of the most passive-aggressive people I know, and I hate it. I'd love to just tell people what I really thought, but I just can't do it, not usually anyway. I guess I'm just to sensitive, that or I'm just a big ole pussy. (I really stretched myself to not write wussy there.) I'm so wishy-washy on things I should have been born a fish. A mind may be a terrible thing to waste but an open-mind is just plain terrible, at least to the person in whom it is housed. Or turrable if your Charles Barkley. I had a good day today, I feel good, I got a good rating at my health screening, I had fun hanging with Rainy, work went well and I was hungry and I ate some eggs. That last bit, with the eggs, just happened. So, to make a long story short (someone yell 'Too late'), the three bears decided little girl tasted better than stupid porridge anyway and they all lived happily ever after, well not Goldilocks.