Resolutions? Resolutions??? We don't need no stinking resolutions!!!

"Should old acquaintance be forgot......."

Then why the hell would you even mention them?  Lest they be something of legend or lore, fuck 'em!  Yeah, I know, I'm starting this latest testament to my ego with an edge.  But, as the late, great Macho Man Randy Savage said, "If you're not living life on the edge, you're taking up too much space!"  

Yes, I'm quoting the Macho Man.  He was a hero of mine, no matter how he lived his life.  Yeah, he was a professional wrestler, a Slim Jim hawker ("Snap into a Slim Jim!"), and even a whack-a-doodle color commentator, but he was also a man for the ages.  

****Time for a soapbox moment.  
As a longtime fan of professional wrestling (yes, I know it's scripted so shut the fuck up), I find it appalling that he isn't a member of the coveted (?) WWE Hall of Fame.  I know why that is, mind you.  Randy, who would have rather kicked Vince McMahon's face in as to look at him, declined to be a member of the HOF unless he was inducted along with his father, Angelo Poffo, and his brother, Lanny Poffo.  And, granted the latter two never achieved the notoriety of Randy, they very well could be considered one of the "First Families of the Modern Era" where wrestling is concerned.  (For more info, just wiki the Macho Man.)  Anyway, Vince needs to do the right thing and get the Macho Man where he belongs!  Nuff said.

Okay, now back to our regularly scheduled programming.  As I look back at 2013, I can honestly say I've experienced nearly the entire spectrum of feelings throughout this year.  I not only lost a dear family member, I nearly lost my own life.  And, thanks to great family and friends, I'm back on the mend, and in the best place I've been in in a very long time.  I'm doing all I can to get myself to a physical state that doesn't jeopardize my well being (props to Dr. Torres and his crew at the U of I Hospital) and I've met the most incredible creature in the universe.  And, get this, she digs me!!!  I know, right???  WTF is her problem???  I'm not sure, by she may be in need of some psychiatric help.  Just saying.
Just trust me when I say this, "I absolutely love this woman with all my being!"  She not only has restored may faith in love, but she's restored my faith in myself.  And, she's even got me going to church!  (SSSHHHHH, don't tell anyone.)  More on that at a later time.

Back to the past year.  I think it's odd that people continue in the passe notion of resolutions.  Basically, they're saying, "I resolve to do whatever I said I would do last year or years past because after a night of drunkedness, you can't expect me to remember what the hell it was I resolved to do, do you???"  Yeah, I may be cynical about resolutions, but I look at it like this.  If a person can't resolve to be a better person on a daily basis rather than one day a year, then why try to make yourself look better by publicly stating that you're going to be better in the oncoming year?  Cracka, please???

So, just so all of you that read this (okay, the 2 of you that read this) know, I'm not going to make any resolutions, just as I haven't done the previous 47 years of my life.  I will, however, do what I can to make Melissa and the kids's lives better.  And, to my family and friends, I'm going to be a little cliche here.  I recently came across a story, and I don't care about the story as much as I do the poem involved.  It reminds me of my Aunt Frannie, may she rest in peace, in that it sounds like something she would say.  So, with that, in this upcoming year, I'd like to wish all of you "enough."

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish enough "Hello's" to get you through the final "Goodbye."

Peace, Love and Karma to you all!

Random train of thought! (And, I'll be damn surprised if it doesn't get derailed!)

Been stressed most of the weekend.  No one thing has me pissed, mind you.  It's a combination of things, which is quite the norm for a lot of people, from what I've come to understand.  Not gonna name names, but some of you will know of whom I speak once this train of pissed-ivity leaves the station!

So, ALL ABOARD!!!  Drop your linen and stop your grinnin'!  This asshole is going to spout out obscenities on a therapeutic level that I may not even comprehend.

First, let me say everyone I may "allude" towards here is very dear to me.  I guess that's what makes the stress so hard to deal with.  They know me, and I thought I knew them, but I guess I've been wrong.  (Yeah, I know, it's a fucking shock to me, too.)  Anyway, should any of them read this, you are more than welcome to rebut, rebuke or downright cry about it!  However, should you do it on Facebook, you won't be fortunate enough to read my retort because I don't crave the bullshit drama on there like so many Drama Queens do!  Also, should you decide to deny any statements or allegations made here, you'd better have some proof to back it up and not merely "He said/she said" repudiations.  Mainly because I will drop the entire "not gonna name names" disclaimer and I'm gonna point a big fucking Miley Cyrus foam finger at your dumb ass!  So, having said that, let's keep this train rolling on down the tracks.


"Next station, 10 Gallons of Crazy in a 5 Gallon Bucket!"

That, in a nutshell, is my roommate.  But, I'm not being rude when I say that.  She (that's right, I have a female roommate) not only admits to it, she fucking OWNS it!  She's been living with me for better part of 8 months (yes, she was the one that called the ambulance when I had my Acute Myocardial Infarction this past June)  because she needed a place to hide.  (Not gonna go into that here because that's her trip with a psychotic boyfriend and not mine.) Anywho, she has two kids that she has shared custody with her ex-husband, so they are at the house, maybe, at least half the week.  Her and I have been friends for a very long time, and that's why I allowed her to come stay at my place and even bring her son's cat with. That is, until recently.  Her son, who is 8(?) doesn't seem to understand the responsibility of taking care of a pet. He's a "momma's boy" but that's the roomie's fault for enabling him.  So, instead of stepping up and feeding, watering and cleaning the cat litter like he should, he'd rather piss and moan about it until mom is tired of hearing it and does it herself.  Even when I've told her that she needs to start being a little more disciplinary with him about stuff, she reminds me of my kids when they were younger with the standard "I know" answer. But, now that's not a problem because the pussy in question is now residing with her ex.  (You'll learn why in a bit. *wink*)

"Next station, Grandma's Little Drama Queen!"

That would be the moniker of my other roommate.  Yeah, I guess I should have stated that at the beginning, but I have two roommates and they're both females!  (Can I get a HOT TUB?!?!?)  But, I digress.  This second roomie is my youngest step-daughter who asked to move back in when she switched schools and started in the Vet Tech program at a school which shall remain anonymous (but whose initials are MCC). Up until recently the only other occupant was her cat that she brought back home with her.  She has a couple dogs that had been staying in O-town with her now ex-BF, but can't because, well, he's her ex.  Duh.  Now, mind you, we used to have a couple of boxers which he put a pen on the backside of the garage for, including a door for them to go inside the garage to their own personal little houses.  I told her she was more than welcome to utilize said pen for purpose of accommodating her particular puppies.  Well, much to my chagrin, she decided to leave them in the house while she was attending classes without so much as a heads up to myself or the 10 Gallons of Crazy.  Needless to say, there was quite the plethora of excrement left by the poor pups.  So, I informed LDQ (short for Little Drama Queen) that she needed to clean up the mess, and that the dogs were no longer allowed inside my domicile and that they needed to be put out in the pen. Well, she decided to take them back to O-town to some friends's place.  I thought, "Sweet!  Problem solved."  Boy, was I fooled!  Oh, and supposedly, her cat had contracted Feline Herpes from the other roomie's cat, too!
  
I'm telling you right fucking now, I'm not having any kind of herpes, feline or otherwise, running around in my house!!!  My first instinct was to torch the house.  However, cooler heads prevailed, and I researched the disease, both online and on the phone with a couple different vets.

Whereas, yes, those furry little pussies can contract herpes, I was not in danger of cold sores sprouting up as a result.  Humans (and dogs) are not at risk of catching feline herpes.  And, it might be noted also, cats cannot catch the strains of herpes that humans carry. (Mind you, that's not the type of pussy I think of when I hear the word Herpes.)  However, I was told by one vet (a veterinarian, and not a veteran) that humans can get sick from an infected cat, though.  He told me that if an infected cat would happen to scratch/bite a person, breaking the skin and the infection was to get in said scratch/bite, the person in question could contract, get this, Cat Scratch Fever!  (Holy Double Live Gonzo, Batman!)  So, all you have to worry about is you or your kid breaking out into some kick ass rock made famous by the Motor City Madman, or spewing some irreverent Republican psycho babble!  (I'm hip.  Which is actually worse?)

***It might be noted here, also, sadly, that LDQ had her cat put down because it had contracted Feline Herpes and that, supposedly, was her only recourse.  This does make me sad to learn of this, however, I believed she jumped the gun a bit as all the research I did informed me that it is treatable and that the animal does not need to be put down. (And, I do refuse to make any jokes about this.  I'm sick, but I'm not mean.)

As a result, I blew up on both 10 Gallons of Crazy and LDQ, and told 10 Gallons to take hers to the vet and don't bring it back until I know it has a clean bill of health.  She did just that, although she decided to take her pussy over to her ex's and let it loose there!  I informed LDQ that the dogs were no longer to be in the house, nor is her new beau (who I've never met, mind you) because I'm not comfortable with a complete stranger being in my home when I'm not there, and I'm not comfortable with a complete stranger being in my home with the other roomie and her kids when I'm not there.  Now, I can appreciate the fact that this guy is "treating her like she is supposed to be treated" and he supposedly a "really nice guy," but color me cynical, that's what has been said about every fucking serial killer since the start of time!  "He was such a nice, quiet young man.  We had no idea he had body parts in his freezer!"

"Last stop, the Ninth Circle of Hell!"

I'm stopping with this for now.  This would be the personal little nickname I have for my office.  I've been there for almost two years, and I really do enjoy what I do.  But, being full-time (but, not really full-time), I decided to apply for another position within the company that would have been a TRUE full-time position that dealt with quality (which is right up my alley since I'm a Certified Quality Inspector, Certified Quality Technician and I was a Certified Quality Auditor at one time, too) although I may have had to go to Florida once in a while for work-related issues.  (Oh, the humanity!)  Long story short, I did not get the position as they went with someone with more experience.  I get it.  I really do.  It's just that they called me up Friday afternoon (when I was dealing with all the 10 Gallons/LDQ drama bullshit) to thank me for my interest, the interview and they really were impressed with my quality background, however, they decided to go with said individual with more experience.  And, as near going all Scanners "head exploding" as I was, I held it together and thanked them for the 

opportunity to apply and interview for the position.  I then spent the next hour knocking my work out like it was a fat kid in dodgeball, and vacated Dante's Inferno!  I knew I was bound to feel better because I was going to be going to my girlfriend's house (which I had been doing a lot lately to avoid the aforementioned 10 Gallons/LDQ drama) and she always makes me feel like I'm the only one that matters regardless of where we are or what we're doing.

I wish I could say that was the end of it.  "I don't think so, Tim."  (Go ahead, hit the button.)  What happened was I let the foul mood permeate my being so much that it started to emanate towards her when I got home, and later when we were at a get-together that her friend had was having, involving other families.  Yes, there were kids there, and I was an ASS (of an epic variety) and you know what she did?  Absolutely NOTHING!  She rolled with it, hugged and kissed me whenever she had the opportunity and even did so while acknowledging my self-righteous, cry-baby bullshit without sounding condescending in doing so.

****SPOILER ALERT****

I'm going on record right now that I WILL BE MARRYING this woman and doing everything within my abilities to make her happy for the rest of her life!

So, until next time, remember, "no matter where you go, there you are."

Peace, Love and Karma, my friends!

I'm out!

Confessions from the Dark Side

I have a confession.

I'm new to this whole blogging "thing."  Whereas, I love the idea of recording random thoughts to share with others, I'm just not sure what's appropriate and what isn't.  It was suggested to me by my girlfriend, Melissa, to blog.  I think that's because she wants me to empty my mind of the random, and sometimes scary, thoughts that tend to permeate the dark reaches of this addled psyche that resides within my melon.  Either that, or she just things I'm one goofy SOB and I should share my musings with others.

Regardless, I guess it's best, or maybe customary, to start with a little background on the individual that has decided to mete his introspective/reflective points of view to an unsuspecting blogosphere.

My name is Denny, although, I don't know if many people actually put their names out here on their blogs.  Well, I often like to throw caution to the wind, so there it is.  I'm a widower, with two children and three step-children, although only one lives at home.  That's only because she's going to college and I made a deal that she wouldn't have to pay rent as long as she gets passing grades.  She had been living in Ottumwa while she attended school at Indian Hills Community College, but has since transferred to Muscatine Community College.  I've been married twice.  The first ended in divorce after two years, but did give me a son, Shawn.  A son, mind you, that wants nothing to do with his old man, but that's a story for another time.  My other child, my daughter Katrina, was a result of a 6-1/2 year relationship (we were never married) with a woman in Pennsylvania after I got out of the military.  That, too, is a story for another time and place.  I also have three step-daughters (Amber, Leah and Austie) from my second marriage.  That marriage is the one that resulted in my being a widower, sadly, however, I do have a somewhat good relationship with them.  Well, two out of the three of them anyway.  Again, a story for another time.  (I'll be saying that a lot, I think, since I'm just offering up what I hope to be a brief milieu into my being.)

I have a plethora of friends and family in the area, as well as across the states, which has been more than helpful these past couple years.  Suffice it to say, without them, I probably wouldn't be here.  And, by here, I mean blogging to the unsuspecting masses and not as a result of suicide.  Trust me when I say this, I am far too narcissistic to off myself.  Besides, I'd rather stick around and be a thorn in the sides of my haters!

In the last 3 - 4 years, I have lost my dad to cancer, my wife to a massive heart attack, and I, myself, have had a heart attack resulting in triple bypass surgery.  Successfully, I might add, if any of you were wondering.  Well, I'm hoping that I have peaked your interest into wanting to hear more.  I welcome comments, anecdotes, ideas, subscribers, etc., to my little corner of the world wide web.

Peace, Love and Karma!