tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-133796852008-10-05T14:07:55.126-05:00My life used to be twisted. Now it's just weird. Read for yourself. <br> (Then make snide comments at my expense.)R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comBlogger451125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-55032906585209595292008-08-16T17:23:00.002-05:002008-08-16T17:26:42.869-05:00

OK, I am not referring to myself with this title, though it fits. Instead, I am referring to a drink I invented last night. I decided that if a Jaegerbomb was a good thing, perhaps replacing the Jaeger with Red Bull would be a good idea. And so we did. All I can say is that this was a bad idea. When asked the name of my new concoction, I said "Stupid", and, thus, "The Stupid" has been born. If

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-29795132588923491982008-06-21T21:55:00.001-05:002008-06-21T21:55:58.076-05:00

I dreamed I was missing, you were so scared But no one would listen, 'cause no one else cared After my dreaming, I woke with this fear What am I leaving when I'm done here? So if you're asking me, I want you to know When my time comes, forget the wrong that I've done Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed Don't resent me, and when you're feeling empty Keep me in your memory, leave out

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-83922106339424357222008-03-09T21:48:00.003-05:002008-03-10T21:26:52.419-05:00

Watch the first half of the movie Sleepers, and imagine much of it happening not in a juvenile detention facility, but in the home. Maybe you'll get it.

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-19109182454528389512008-02-23T00:50:00.000-06:002008-02-23T00:51:24.207-06:00

This may be the funniest blog post in history.

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-83760172556605421032008-02-16T19:27:00.005-06:002008-02-16T21:51:04.101-06:00

Lots of times I get comments to this blog that readers never see. It's not that I delete them. Except for spam and a couple of very vicious posts, I leave the comments even if they are negative. Everyone is welcome to their opinion, and if someone is going to put themselves out the way I do, with a lot of my negative experiences discussed, I have to expect negative responses. But most of the time

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-17607561016647610382008-02-15T22:27:00.001-06:002008-02-15T22:27:55.824-06:00

Heart of the Matter - Don Henley I got the call today, I didn't wanna hear But I knew that it would come An old true friend of ours was talkin' on the phone She said you found someone And I thought of all the bad luck, And the struggles we went through And how I lost me and you lost you What are these voices outside love's open door Make us throw off our contentment And beg for something more?

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-34554106302246974282008-02-13T23:40:00.000-06:002008-02-13T23:41:20.915-06:00

Creep - Radiohead When you were here before, Couldn't look you in the eye You're just like an angel, Your skin makes me cry You float like a feather In a beautiful world I wish I was special You're so fucking special But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo What the hell am I doin' here? I don't belong here I don't care if it hurts, I wanna have control I want a perfect body I want a perfect soul I

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-44459382487666721242008-02-06T22:00:00.000-06:002008-02-07T01:14:13.029-06:00

The strangest things get to me. There are some commercials out from Ikea that show a couple at bedtime. Oddly, it's not the idea of a couple that hits me. It's not even the fact the couple is in bed together. While those are both things I miss, I make it through those things ok. They get to me obviously, just like any reminder of a loss would. But I have been through enough that I can handle that

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-63647591423684603962008-01-28T00:40:00.000-06:002008-01-29T05:13:30.137-06:00

One thing kind of surprises me. That is that most people never look at timestamps on entries. I can tell because people would wonder why the hell I write so late at night when I should be in bed. It's basically a bad case of insomnia. Once I do fall asleep I can sleep forever, but I am having a hell of a time falling asleep. I don't want to take any medication that will make waking up even

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-27872002760118319122008-01-17T05:28:00.000-06:002008-01-17T05:29:06.993-06:00

I guess if you paid any attention to this blog you noticed that I like to write. Sometimes it's all that keeps me sane. Sometimes it is the only outlet I have. And sometimes the blog is like the only person I have to talk to. And like most people who like to write think they have a novel in them. I have been kicking around ideas for years. Nobody seems to get my main idea besides me, which is OK.

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-53817876698478658962008-01-14T03:54:00.000-06:002008-01-15T00:42:06.652-06:00

I guess I need to write more often. If I don't people think something is wrong. While I appreciate their concern, that’s usually not the case. Of course some people just seem to like what I write for some unknown reason. So, to have something to write about I had a great idea. There are these commercials out now about how people are being rejected by eHarmony. If you have read everything in

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-8844897915240677382007-12-18T20:25:00.000-06:002008-01-02T19:14:19.202-06:00

They started giving me pills in college. I couldn't tell you what they were except they were small, red and made me overheat in a town that already hit the hundreds at a job involving heavy lifting. They also had the wonderful side-effects of causing minor trembling of my hands and constant thirst. As you can imagine this makes certain things, like playing poker, interesting, as people

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-972111363388893012007-12-14T19:07:00.000-06:002007-12-14T19:43:17.542-06:00

I am 37 years old and I have never had a healthy relationship with a woman. There, I said it. For the record, it's not the first time I said it. That would have been in therapy this week. My therapist echoed the idea. I went over every significant relationship I have had and truly none of them were healthy. The closest I came was in high school, but she had a crush on one of the

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-36268274052257325322007-12-10T18:42:00.000-06:002007-12-10T18:52:12.850-06:00

Why is it that people feel the need to build up the self-esteem of every guy that goes through a divorce? I am not happy that I got a divorce, but I also know I was headed for a serious meltdown if I hadn't gotten one. Hell, maybe I am still headed for one. I don't know. But trying to convince me that every waitress at dinner is flirting with me is a stretch. Especially when they are paid to

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-62510814168912501702007-12-06T15:35:00.001-06:002007-12-10T19:00:30.239-06:00

If I am going to be bi-polar I would at very least like the happy manic episodes instead of the anxious ones. Those people may have the rock bottom lows that I am getting with all the stress I am under, but at least they balance it out with some fun now and then. I would like some of that fun dammit. I would like to just be mindlessly happy for no reason. I'd like to be so blindly happy it's

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-40133997044043557152007-11-26T19:07:00.000-06:002007-12-10T18:57:40.365-06:00

I don’t think some people realize just how hard it really is to put the past behind you. These days you can locate just about anyone you have ever come in to contact with if you are willing to try. And it seems everyone has a MySpace or a Facebook where they are talking about what is going on in their lives. That's all well and good if it's an old friend you want to get in touch with. But

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-69195994022123260902007-11-19T19:07:00.000-06:002007-11-19T19:09:02.745-06:00

People read what I write about putting the past behind me and they think that means I’m doing OK. I have to be honest. It doesn’t mean that. I have to move beyond the past because if you dwell on it you will relive it again and again. I do believe that what we focus on we attract to ourselves. Whether you believe in Jesus with "As ye sew so shall ye reap", or you believe in the concept of

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-31431231068554787042007-11-16T19:27:00.000-06:002007-11-16T19:29:44.821-06:00

There are certain things in my life I am scared I will always associate with certain people. Maybe I hold on to things too long, but there are parts of town I just won’t go to because it hurts too bad. There are certain zip and area codes I hate to use. I still remember an old phone number from a long ago ex and when I see the last 4 digits I feel a sense of regret. I smell certain perfumes

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-8967983209888514712007-11-01T16:21:00.001-05:002007-11-01T16:25:17.411-05:00

My therapist has a phrase she likes to use. She says I am “invested” in being miserable. Now, understand she doesn’t say this to be mean. She known my childhood and understands I was raised to believe that stress, anxiety and fear were the norm. She also knows I had more than my share of reasons to be depressed, so until I decide to make the change in what I want my life to be like I will

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-39959556023169003922007-10-16T19:53:00.000-05:002007-10-30T20:51:18.555-05:00

Fridays suck. I know you all read that and said, “What the fuck!” but they really do suck. The thing is work on Friday goes on forever. It seems like everything is moving in slow motion. I feel like it’s been a full workday and its only 2PM. I just got up to stretch my legs and they felt like I had been sitting for hours, even though it had been maybe an hour. And people are different on

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-55059497792799755712007-10-11T17:57:00.000-05:002007-10-11T17:59:37.835-05:00

Sometimes I wonder who I am writing for. I have mentioned in the past that it seemed my writing belonged to others. Now I am taking it back. I don’t do this out of anger, but because I need to return my writing to the healthy outlet it used to be. It is like reclaiming a part of my life, or almost like reclaiming part of my body. If you lost an arm, and had to choose whether or not to attach it,

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-35764222193519896402007-10-10T20:15:00.000-05:002007-10-10T20:19:56.183-05:00

I have finally found a cure to my anxiety. Well, not a cure, but a control. If I keep myself productive at work, I stay calm. I am not sure if writing will work or not, but I am going to try. What I do know is that working means making more money and more money means less stress. I am paid on a commission so, needless to say, I get worried some months. It's a curse. We have people here making

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-28756772879385646342007-10-06T11:51:00.000-05:002007-10-06T11:54:44.297-05:00

I am in a weird mood right now. To be honest I am in neither a good mood nor a bad mood. I have been exchanging emails with someone and knowing they are happy and I’m not doesn’t make me feel better. I know it’s selfish but I kind of felt like it was twisting the knife, even though it was just a statement of fact. I don’t want to be with the person, but I want to be missed. I want them to want

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-47152678672074890382007-10-03T19:29:00.000-05:002007-10-03T19:35:35.615-05:00

I was reading one of those: How does your birth order impact your personality in relationships pieces, and now I'm confused. First, understand my dilemma. I was a first born. BUT, there were multiple miscarriages before me. Then my mother remarried and I was a middle child. Then my siblings were kidnapped and I was an only child again. But they were found, so I was back in the middle. Then the

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13379685.post-57643411031589843952007-09-24T21:28:00.000-05:002007-09-24T21:36:14.711-05:00

I love the way people are trying to get me to start dating again. Don't get me wrong. I still appreciate a hot woman. And I am still a hornball just like the next guy. But I am not interested in dating. I have found that if I stop for even a minute, and don't keep myself occupied, my anxiety jumps and then I'm a mess. I even enjoy making cold calls at work because it fights off the anxiety. But

R. U. Serioushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15236766357104792669noreply@blogger.com