12th And Final BGJ Entry - Now On With The Blog!

Before It's Up, What Is It? - December 11th, 2005 - 09:26 AM.

It flows, like a river. It waits for no one. It moves quickly, it moves slowly. It stands still. It changes things. It brings age, and with age, wisdom. You can get things done in the nick of it. It's to go; it's to die, Mr. Bond. It heals all wounds. It's to leave, if you're going to be on it. You feel good when you're just in it, but it catches up with all of us. It's relative. I've got some, want to spend some with me? I give it to others. You still have it, you take it, then you waste it. Sometimes it feels like we're all killing it, yet it is unchanging, unwavering, and marches on. It's a magazine.  We measure it, disect it. Compartmentalize it. Count it, keep it. We can't turn it back. It is all one piece, no matter how we minimalize it. Given some of it, almost anything is possible. We never have enough of it, yet it's all we ever have. I have all of it in the world. I have it on my hands, but I still let it pass. It goes by like water under the bridge, yet you can't go back in it.  You can feel it weighing on you. It's for stopping and smelling roses. It's to make a change. It's to try something new. It ends things. It runs out. It's to do some good; it's to take things seriously. Sometimes it's not the right one, or the right place. Everything happens in a measure of it. It's to grow up. It is that which we remember. The good and the bad. The tough. You can serve it, hard. People have done it. It is all one great big piece, and it cares not what we do with ours.  Have you discovered what 'it' is? It's TIME, and mine's up for this post.

Back To The Grind

I guess there are a lot of you back to work today after the break.  Sorry to hear that, but I do envy you quite a bit.  I think back on the days when I worked as a school bus (it was actually a van) driver, and from where I am today I can't even imagine how I did that.  I used to earn actual money, providing an actual service to other people.  Yeah, it was for my mother's company, which I ended up being solely responsible for just before she ran it into the ground, but still - I was making a contribution to society.  Seems like another life, and I guess 11 years kinda is.  Now, I'm just an anchor holding my best friend back financially.  Isn't life wonderful.

Anyway, thought I'd start your Monday off with a bit of fun.  Here's a video for your enjoyment.  It includes exactly one questionable word, and if you are distracted by anything at the time you'd miss it.  Look for Blake Lively looking cute, and Jessica Alba being completely hilarious and adorable.  You'll also spot John McEnroe as well.  Enjoy.

11 BGJ Blog Entry - Only 1 More Left!

Happy Birthday To Me - April 28th, 2005 - 06:07 AM.

Another year passes and not much changes. Here I am, ridiculously early in the morning, trying to write something meaningful about today being some sort of milestone or what have you. I'm 34 as of 20:18 PM tonight, and I believe the emotion I'm experiencing is best described as "big fucking whoop." There is nothing outstanding that separates yesterday from today; there is no feeling of accomplishment or rejoicing at finishing off another year of survival against stupidity, which is what life ultimately boils down to. 34 years of being mediocre have come to an end, and tonight the first few grueling hours of year 35 kick in. Yippee.  So why am I bothering to write about it? Call it a sense of duty. Call it a desire to get my lack of interest regarding the date out of my system and into society in general so I can share the indifference. Think of it as complaining about all the people who go out of their way to 'celebrate' the fact that they have successfully completed a one-year journey closer to their own inexorable demise. Now, if that's not reason to celebrate, I don't know what is.  As most people reading this will know, I'm no big fan of the human race. I feel that the entire population of the planet suffers from a common ailment, stupidity, and that this rampant illness should result in the majority of the people you meet every day being exterminated in order to make life more pleasant for everyone else. Consider it "forced Darwinism," and think about it. There would certainly be an improved quality of life for those left behind.  I could be waxing poetic on the world events my eyes have seen; shuttles exploded, buildings collapsed. Better saved for a deathbed account, wouldn't you say? More dramatic then, yes?  Instead, I choose to look people right in the eye and tell them that today is no big deal. It's just a Thursday. Television is good tonight; the air outside could be warmer. There doesn't seem to be much in the newspaper this morning, aside from the usual government scandals, a few more dead people (yay Darwin), and false advertisements for computers and hair growth formulas. Pollution, extinction, global warming - these things haven't changed overnight. Why should anything else?  Admittedly, turning an important age, like 19, that means something. Couldn't fumble around in the back seat of a car without it being called rape, now I can. Couldn't smoke or vote, now I can. I can now legally get drunk, climb into a one-ton vehicle, and kill another human being. There's a milestone! I can write my own note to get out of class, rent a vehicle with my student credit card, drive to some god forsaken backwoods location that exists on no maps, get myself killed a la 'Texas Chainsaw Massacre,' and have no one wonder where I am for two days. Cool! Yeah, turning 19 has it's precious moments.  What do you say when you turn 34?  Congratulations, you may already have a good idea about what organs in your body are most likely to fail first, providing you with an insider's glimpse as to what you'll most likely die from! Let's party!  Anyway, happy birthday to me, and maybe I'll lose my pessimistic outlook as the day rolls on. I guess it all depends on how many gifts I get. Get to work, Gentle Reader, the day is a-wastin'!