We've Come a Long Way, Baby!

Four years!  It's been four years since I posted last.  As I've gotten older, I guess they've gone by faster.  I can't promise it won't happen again.  Just got a hair up my ass to regain access to this blog.  To see if it was possible, anyway.  I figure if nothing else, I can get writing practice, even if nobody looks.

I have a baby now.  That'll change things, I tell ya.  I haven't slept more than 6 hours in a row since.  Usually it's more like four, and that's only because Kristin, the mother and my love, is very helpful.  Not sure how up for smart-making my brain is, but it can't hurt to try.  

I've set up a ne blog, A Taste of Laird's Brain Juice.  Figure starting on a fresh page will maybe help.  Besides, I could spend a year just fixing all the broken links on this one.  We'll see what happens.

Once again...

I think I'll be doing this more often now. After all, my therapist says it's good for me, and I guess I have a lot to say. Like I fucked your mom. Just kidding, ask your sister.

Things are different than they've been before. For one, I'm in therapy. Guess that's not all bad. I kind of need it. I'm also driving an older car than I ever have before. I think I might keep buying old, too, since every time I get something new vehicle wise I smash it. Got a steady girl, which is nice, but confusing.

There's more, but I'm busy. Look for more soon.

I haven't updated in more than a year!!

I know, I am shitty. At least I don't care about being shitty all that much. I'll try and be a little more active with this in the future. I'm pretty sure writing regularly is good for you, not that I big on good for you stuff, unless it's Guiness.

So, please expect more, and continue to check this page now and then. Here's a picture of a pweshus puppy to keep you coming back.

It's my mother's dog. It's probably 2 years old now and weighs like a pound and a half. It's name is Colossus.

Livin' La Vida Loca

I'm starting a new roleplaying game! Woo! That's how great my life is! Maybe in this one, I'll get a date. That doesn't happen all the time, but it does occasionally. Ah, fantasy.
On a similar note, Ben should check out SA's take on one of the Dragonlance books. He'll either laugh, or beat me up.

The Big 666 Letdown

So, as everybody knows, Tuesday was June 6, 06-06-06, Satan's day. It was a little exciting for me. Bookies were giving 10-1 odds the apocalypse would happen. That's what excited me most. My head was filled with visions of a post apocalyptic wasteland, and I was gazing upon it from my mountain fortress. I have one! It's true, ask anyone! I couldn't wait to blast my way through zombie hordes, scoop up Dream Girl, and whisk her away to said fortress, a safe distance from the horror that the metro sprawl had become. This is my twisted fantasy, so I know she'd agree. Besides, what's she supposed to do, sit around and wait to be overcome by throngs of shambling undead? That, or be enslaved by Lord Humongus and his gang of chaps-wearing punk rock warriors. Together, we'd hide in the mountains, occasionally coming out to pick at the carcass of Denver.

But none of that happened. Wednesday came, and I didn't get to smash zombies on the way to work. Things just happened the way they always do. How very dull. I'm not a warrior in an armageddon nightmare world, Dream Girl remains just that, and, perhaps most disappointingly, there are no zombies. I suppose I will learn to deal.

I need to get one of these for work

But I got a part time job that rules. I'm a karaoke DJ. That's tits!

Oh yea...tits.

A (young) teen in a spa is like a kid in a candy store

The title, I think, deserves an explanation. This post was going to be titled "As Promised" referring to the previous entry's boast of an upcoming post. But when I punched the "A" in, that sentence was suggested by the computer. It was too delightfully random to pass on.

Anyway, down to business. I'm watching "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." I have to admit, I love this movie, however, the last time I watched it I was left at the end feeling exceptionally lonely. It is such a moving relation ship story that really hit home for some reason, even though I've never erased the memory of a past relationship. Well, not without some help from my "friends." You know, Jack, Jim, and Mary J. But this time it's got me thinking. It's easy to become cynical about romance. When it's absent you want nothing else, and then it shows up and it's a big pain in the ass. I think. Maybe. It's been a while, maybe I've forgotten. Anyway, I'm in the former category at the moment, and cripplingly shy. So meeting females is a bit of a challenge, particularly when I find them attractive. A nice looking girl with blue hair and I cannot utter a syllable.
So I've become a bit of a distant observer. Hey, what red blooded American male doesn't enjoy a bit of girl watching. With said sociological activities I begun to notice a bit of a disturbing pattern. Women seem to gravitate towards the kind of guy that I am not. I'm not saying I'm a bad guy, in fact, that's just the issue. Girls like "bad guys." At least, girls I'm attracted to do. And so, I've compiled a list. It is a list of things I could "improve" to increase my chances of attracting a mate. Maybe I can even help some of you other guys find love. Just obey the list. It is as follows...

1. I have a job. I don't know what it is about being attached to anyone who needs you to buy everything for them, perhaps the motherly instinct, but chicks seem to dig it.
2. I am not addicted to cocaine, methamphetamines, heroine, or any other substance more hardcore than nicotine. Perhaps this is the mother thing again, or just some desire to be a psychic Bob Villa and do a "fixer-upper."
3. I bathe regularly. I suppose this must wash away my natural pheromones. Chicks dig guys who are dirty.
4. I care, at least somewhat, about the way I look in public. If you want to impress the ladies, you have to go around in sweatpants and Big Johnson t-shirts. Butt-wiser is just as good.
5. Does gross facial hair fall into number 4? I think it deserves its own entry. I need to either stop shaving altogether, or just grow a goatee like a foot and a half long. Sexy.
6. I am not in a gang. Big turn on, apparently. I can see how having a lot of money can do it for ya, but I don't get how being shot at does anything. Endorphines, maybe.
7. Teeth. I've got those. Too bad for me, eh?
8. I don't wear makeup to make me look dead. Corpses get girls, apparently.
9. Oh yea, I need piercings. In my face. Lots of 'em. Those make ladies get all up ons.
10. All decent lists have at least ten things.

There you have it. The key to romantic success. If you want to get laid, simply OBEY the LIST. From Littleton, this is Laird.