Weekend update…

Ghost fans…

I’ve gotten away from tattling on my exploits….and I prolly owe you some dirt…so here goes…

I fessed up about this neurological disorder/immune system civil war type condition last week…pretty much run the whole gamut of emotions with this thing…

Better define that one for you:

gam·ut/ˈgamət/

 

Noun:

The complete range or scope of something: “the whole gamut of human emotion”. A complete scale of musical notes; the compass or range of a voice or instrument.

 

Been pissed off….sad…exhausted…laughed about it…and then back around to pissed again.

 

Thursday, I was thinking…man, work is kicking my ass….and then I got a couple texts about going out.

 

I really was going to go home….but Black Sabbath was twisting my arm.

 

We met up for some drinks at Little B’s spot.  I had a couple of beers.

Bounced over to the strip club….Sabbath is wearing a sport coat and this Green lantern pin on it….

I’m wearing a pair of jeans…my StL 2011 Champs stocking cap, and windbreaker and t-shirt…haha…

We had a couple of beers there, and his button must have been working, cause this girl from the Emerald City was under his spell.  This guy was getting numbers like crazy all night.

(She will give me her number…the power of the Green Lantern…Never fails!)

 

I’m pretty sure that I’ve said this before…really don’t care for strip clubs.  I prefer to unwrap my packages and like to be surprised….just not my thing.  There was this one girl who could move.  Damn, could that girl, MOVE.  The rotations and gyrations that her hips and the flow of her arms, etc….she was like…damn…I don’t know what…but it was noteworthy.

 

Listening to Sabbath go on about the Oompa Loompas tossing singles like I was tossing beads on St. Pat’s was a riot….the dancer under his spell was even laughing with us.  I sat there…drank two beers and jibbered in French and Spanish at her.  Again…not really my place…but it makes the Sabbath happy.  (Someone has to remember what he did/who he met, to remind him via text the next day…..Man, great time last night bro…You remember a Kari? or Lisa?….every damn time like clockwork.)

 

We went up to the Gay bar next, and I lost him……Again.

 

I wandered all up and down the main drag looking for his ass.  Finally….found him…BACK at the the Gay Bar. (How do you lose a 6’3″, very black dude in a purple sport coat?….his reply…I’m a ninja fool!)

 

During my travels, I ran into Captain America and Chainsaw….they were babysitting this chick who was passed out at the bar at an impossible angle…not sure how she was staying on the stool.

(Pretty sure this is what she looked like when they got her home.)

 

Best highlight of the night….watching the 20-something girl darn near strip down completely to show everyone in the bar her tattoos.

 

Grand total for the evening…6 bottles of beer and a calzone.

 

Yeah…not really feeling it….

 

This MG stuff sucks….starts in my face and hands…spreads out.

 

Spent Friday night playing some Call of Duty-MW3 with Subzero.  I’m an ass.  Run around with the blast shield and a grenade launcher….making people’s lives hell.  Love smashing guys with the shield….a lot of fun.  My other favorite is when they keep shooting the shield and they kill themselves with the ricocheting bullets…..when they pull out the RPG’s, I pause and try to back pedal QUICK….they usually get my ass though.  If they’re trying to be slick and stick a semtex grenade to me, I’ll charge them, and blow them up too.

 

Saturday was the LDoC…

The crap these kids say.

The girl- “I love you more than a popsicle, Dad.”

The big boy-”I’m gonna go to college, twice….and be the best starfighter pilot…EVER!!!”

Then…there’s the little one….

Sitting in the car seat in the middle across from his sister, he strokes his chin like he’s thinking and shouts, “I KNOW! How about I be NICE to you!!!”

 

He reaches over and gently pats his “sisser” (as opposed to his bruddah/brudder) and then folds his hands in his lap.

 

(Not what I was expecting…at all.)

 

We watched Mirror, Mirror.  Nice little flick.  No damsels in distress here.  Definitely a Girl’s kick butt movie.

 

Hit Barnes and Noble…bought the demons some reading material…teach them to love books early.  Hit McD’s for nuggets and playland action, then finished up with a trip to one of my friend’s Ice cream/Coffee shops.

 

I met this chick three St. Pat’s ago and have kept in touch here and there…she works like a rock star…goes to school, has picked up a fiance (Tell him to look me up on the PS3….Irish_Ghost28, if I’m not mistaken) and OWNS this Ice Cream/Coffee shop for the past year.  The girl is busy.

 

She Who Must Not Be Named showed to pick up the demons…I had forgotten that she was allergic to strawberries, and the little one….LOVES them like I do.  So I had to help him with his ice cream to keep it from running down his cone.  The girl loves the damn mint ice cream…like my old man used to.  Gabe is like his mum….Chocolate Brownie Fudege something or other….  Funny how they pick that stuff up.

 

Chatted with My Latina Overachieva for a bit after they left, and then drove my ass home….played some more CoD with my boy Subzero, and the hand twitch was full on in the right hand.

 

Sunday, the MG was bad….just slept most of the day…got up and played some video games around noon…showered and went to the Olive Garden with TFG.  We BS’d a bit.  Stuffed myself, and then headed over to the movies to watch 21 Jumpstreet…..laughed my ass off.  Had a good time. But, when I got home…the hand twitching was real bad…was doing it at lunch while I was trying to hold the menu.

 

Pretty much slept for about 16 hours.  Missed out on boardgame night with another friend…just physically was sucking ass.

 

That’s about it….nothing else extraordinary.

 

Still..managed to get out there and do something….instead of just sitting on the couch. F*cka yuuuuuu, Dohl-phinnnnn!!!!!!  No, f*cka you eMmmmm-Geeeeeee!!!!!!  (See South Park, Whale Whores episode.)

 

 

One day at a time….

 

Ghost out…

Meat…Nap…Booze…more meat…

Hangovers are awesome.  God’s little way of reminding you of how bad you were the night before…and Ghost was bad…

Dirk had arranged a lunch pow-wow, Saturday. So we got together at that Deep South Roadkill place. Huge turnout. Dirk, the Ewok, Gamer Girl, Amish, Ghost, the Leprechaun and his girl…and FINALLY…that ninja, Subzero.

(Dirk, Amish, Subzero and I were at one table. All the shorties were at the other.) The crap that comes out during these get-togethers just isn’t right: The peanut wars across the aisle with the table of little people.  The comment about Dirk’s ribeye bone and an unidentified female’s takeout box. Amish’s rant about all things ‘nerd’. Gamer girl was talking about the Star Wars:Old Republic MMORPG.

Amish says, “Yeah, all I just heard was Nerd, nerd, nerd, nerdy, nerdy, nerd.”

The meal…bread..a Caesar salad…and large steak. Mmmm.

Now, it was a time for a nap. Amish bounces at a bar notorious for being the destination for the local university’s underage drinkers.  So, this was to be the rallying point for night two of my weekend craziness.

Nap then.  I hit the couch with the PS3, my newly developed addiction to TV series shows on Netflix, and took brief naps in between the laundry buzzer.

That night started with me finally getting off my butt and getting showered and dressed. My boy Subzero was having a rough time, so I rallied the boys and got on a mission: Get him laid.

No just kidding. I was making sure that he got out and we drug his inner ninja up to the surface to come out and play. Then we might see some of that swagger come back. He’s at his best when he’s hurling those ice blasts and doing those full screen sliding kicks.

First we had to swing by and say hello to my girl, 1Nightstand. That Effing Girl and the Derby Girls were out at a bar to celebrate 1Nightstand’s bday early. After BSing it awhile, it was time to roll. Her pink hat was pretty nice…Ghost can’t do pink…just can’t.

(1Nightstand and Ghost playing Hat Swap.)

So, off we rolled to pick up the giant, Dirk and head to the land of the underaged….the Amish Bar.

I hadn’t been in this bar, since I graduated back in 2004. There was a reason….I didn’t remember until we were there….I was too old for these rides. Hell, by 22 I was too old, so now….it was just funny. It was like watching little kids play dress up. All of the little girls were there in their mismatched slutty outfits. Seriously, I swear they just wore whatever pair of heels they owned, and the shortest, tightest mini-dresses they could find. Then we spotted this guy:

(Creeper Alert. Whoop-Whoop-Whoop!)

Yes, that’s a neon hoola-hoop. And yes….we fully suspected that the passenger van in the parking lot was his and he had candy in it. After trying to play with the little girls and their hoola-hoop, he wandered around a bit. We watched two girls work him for a drink and ditch him. Well played, brave ones. Take the candy, but not get in the van. Just plain creepy.

Ran into a couple of more characters: the Dark Eyed Lass, the Hammer, The Legal Twins 1&2…

The Hammer was ahead of me in HS by a couple of years. He warned me to stay out of trouble…Pffft….yeah, he knows me.

The Dark Eyed Lass looked really familiar to me when she walked in. She sat around the corner from us.  She stood out, because she was the only one there dressed attractively without looking like a slut.  That and she also LOOKED old enough to order a drink.

We were just sitting and laughing at the kids on the dance floor. The pregnant chick in the short dress on the speaker dancing was a bit of a shocker. Seriously? Was there any thinking going on there?

Dirk was doing the usual. Drinking Jack and Coke, and trying not to lose his mind and kill some idiot who is too drunk and keeps swaying into him. Subzero is doing his usual..I’m cool and just gonna sit here and chill.

It was about this time that the Dark Eyed Lass strolled closer and I had to ask her who she was. Turns out that she used to be a waitress at this pub that Subzero and I used to hit from time to time. Now she was the manager, and she had this annoying pink tumor on her ass. (Yeah, Ghost said it…I dislike pink shirts on dudes. God they look terrible.)

Anyway, from time to time the DJ would mix in about 30 seconds of an old school song, and I’d lean over and start singing it ridiculously loud at her….and she was singing back. Score. (Yes, Ghost was poking the tumor to size it up. I was feeling a bit ornery, and if the dude got mad enough to start something..I had God’s plenty of backup.)

Not too much longer, and a few more, Ghost Rap sing alongs, and she slides over near Subzero and I and announces that she wasn’t with the tumor. HEY! Yep, we now had a collaborator for more shenanigans!

(The Dark Eyed Lass and the Hammer pose for Ghost pics.)

Subzero was a little relieved. The Cougars had starting trickling into the bar, and the one wearing the backwards baseball cap kept eyeballing him like she was wanting to get a little “frostbite” from Ol’ Zero.

We talked, sang along to the Old school samples and DEL chimes in with this after a clip of Nelly’s “Ride Wit Me”:

(The line in the song talks about how the girls can be 18 with an attitude or 19 kinda snotty, acting real rude.)

“Oh, there’s a whole lotta that in here tonight.” We had a couple more laughs as the attention seeking little girls clacked by  in their oversized heels, trying way too hard.

The we started playing Ghost bar games….

Match the Cougar Grannie with her In-Bar Granddaughter.  Good for some laughs. You have several options. Match by facial features, hair styles, articles of clothing, dance moves…etc…

Next required me to seek out some contestants…Fake ID or not.

(Legal Twins and Ghost.)

So, we pick out the Legal Twins. It was unanimous. We all thought they were in on fakes. These kind ladies are seniors at the University, and were more than kind enough to flash ID for me. Even though #1 got her address wrong…they looked legit. So rules dictated that they pick the next contestants, but they told me that they knew everyone in the bar, so it wouldn’t be fair. Seeing the game come to an end was sad, but then #1 points out a girl and tells me to go bust her for being in on a fake ID and tell her that she’s under arrest. I totally should have done it, told her to take a cab home immediately or that she’d be going to jail.

The striped mini-dress insisted that she was of age (though would never present ID) and even after I tried walking away, she kept insisting that she was telling the truth. This game got old. Dirk and I rocked a car bomb, after a kid and his buddy from the University high-fived me for wearing my Cleveland Browns jersey.  (We shuddered as we walked past the chick with eyeballs tattooed on the tops of her boobs and got the hell out of there.)

After dropping Dirk off downtown, it was time to introduce Ol ‘Zero to Hazzard county and two of the three bars over there open until 4am….(the strip club is the other….and I have filled my quota of being in strip clubs for the year already this month)….so we hit the Pirate bar and That Bar Where You Go To Get Knifed…Or Buy Meth.

My boys Leathernutz and Ron Jeremy were supposed to meet us, and since there wasn’t really much going on at the Pirate bar we bounced down to the Ice and Dice for a beer or two.

Where to start at this bar…well. I’ll just list the ways in which this place was just all sorts of wrong:

Lots of Big Girls…we really needed Bacon Bits. He’d have had a field day.

Glitter Zebra was rocking a top that completed the zebra stripes using silver glitter. I think it was a sort of backless type thing.

Greasy, long haired stocking cap girl…(that kept sliding in between us and our view of the only two good looking girls dancing with each other.)

Stretchmark Muffintop….’Nuff said.

Black, Knee-high furry boot chick wearing black tights, a tiny plaid maroon mini-skort.

Leathernutz and his wife Angel were there with Ron and his girl Jenna. I had warned Subzero that as soon as we got there that these guys had known me since grade school and they would probably start straight in on the insults.

Leathernutz led the charge….Jokes about the glare off my white ass. Classic.

He then followed it up with this gem, “This whole damn building could be a commercial for Valtrex.”

(In case you didn’t know what Valtrex was: http://www.valtrex.com/)

Watching the girl in the grey sweatpants and cowboy boots do the “Flying Grinding Cowgirl” on two different guys was enough to actually render me speechless. Wow. Just f*cking wow.

The cure girls actually wiggled their way over near us and ‘Zero starts talking smack. So, after watching the horrible seizures being committed in the name of dance. I got my ass out there for two songs. The cute girl with the really nice butt gives me her number, and ‘Zero and I head back downtown to Ponytail’s spot. (It was nice to have someone wanting a piece of the Ghost when I put forth so little in effort getting dressed. My old, beat-up black Shox, a pair of khaki cargo pants that I wear to work sometimes, my Browns jersey and the throwback Browns stocking cap.)

Dirk is there with The Anorexic Porn Star, VaJayJay, the Prophet, and the Ewok. Dirk has been after me to order this Meat-stravaganza sandwich, so we order the Carnivore. Holy hell. It’s a half-pound burger, a chicken breast, bacon, sliced ham and topped with an egg. (There may have been  more stuff on it, I’ll take a pic for y’all next time.)

While I choke down this monster sandwich, the stories just keep coming. The best was probably from the Ewok. The topic of porn got brought up, and he tells this story about being up in “The City” and walking through the mall and getting in line at the Cinnabon. So, there’s a chick in front of him with headphones connected to her cellphone and he gets bored and peeks over her shoulder….yep, full on porn on this chick’s phone. Awesome. The stories you hear at the bar at 6am.

The topic of the short dress/hookerpalooza fest gets batted around. Theory develops that all these girls had to go blow their Christmas gift cards and that’s where the new wardrobes popped up.

Va-Jizzle fires back with, “That’s why it smells so bad outside right now.”

Classy. Gotta love this dirty little river town.

Don’t they say that nothing good happens after 2 a.m. ?

Well, it certainly gets weird.

Next week, Vlad is having a ‘Divorce party’. He never had a Bachelor party, so he’s going all out for his divorce. The Hairy Gymrat is moving, so we’ll see what shakes out.

Important thing was that ‘Zero had a good time. I dressed like a dumbass and had a blast.

Back to work tomorrow afternoon.

Updates on the personal improvements and the new song for the week tomorrow. Let me know what you think about the pics being set into the blog. Still playing with all the tools. It should get better as we go.

Well, this thing is approaching 2000 words, plus pics, so some of you may be thinking you just read a novel.

I typically talk and think too much….so, this is probably right on par for the course.

Thanks for reading me.

Ghost out…

First day back to work, and what a wild finish…

What up, people? So my mini-vacation from work ended today. I laid around sleeping til noon, and tapped out my last entry. Was thinking about getting off my ass and working out…just wasn’t feeling it.  Watched about 8 more episodes of Scrubs on Netflix and was being a rather worthless sack of cocoa pebbles when I got a call from my old buddy, the Colon Stretcher. He and I used to be Operational Compliance Analysts for a tire company…A.K.A. Evil Auditors. He managed to get his nickname from a facility he plastered with a horrible review score.  I’m going to try to find time to get out west and visit him. If I can swing it, I’ll swing down and see my family in the desert and my friends Adam and Eve.

So, the Stretcher has a pretty warped and twisted mind himself. He gave me these gems yesterday:

Words of Wisdom from Uncle Stretcher…Never take your two fingers and poke a woman in her chest during an argument, and say, “Listen, bitch!” Always turns the tide against you.

“I used to be sad that I had no shoes, until I met a guy that had no feet.  Then, I thought, ‘Hey, no feet! I bet he has some shoes that he isn’t using anymore!’

His boy is probably playing college football at USC in the next couple years and will probably be terrorizing NFL QB’s shortly after that. However, the poor sap is getting to experience the joy of two teenage girls in his house at the same time.  His wife is ridiculously muy caliente and puts up with his crap…lucky bastard. So, I think he’ll have enough help to manage.

We were talking about daughters and how they go through these big parties at 15, 16 or whenever and they’re supposed to be “women”.

For a sample of the weirdness that goes on in our head:

He says, “Daddy, since I’m a woman now, does that mean I can have a baby?”

and I finish, “Sure, as long as you want Daddy to murder someone and spend the next 25 years in prison!”

Work went as expected. Some minor computer issues, a bit of boredom and a whole lot of planning for the future. Going to head back to school again. Researching a couple of different programs. Going to get my fat corporeal self into the gym and get started working on my fireman arms and for the first time in my life, I want abs. I’m gonna have them.

My dad passed about three and a half years ago. I’ve been wanting to get a tattoo to honor his memory. Never had one, and I’m going to spend 2012 doing stuff that I want to do. So, with his Bday coming up here in a couple days, I figure that it’s good timing. I’ll save getting stupid drunk and upset for the anniversary of his passing.

I tossed some texts back and forth with Neckbrace. He and I have only known each other a couple of years, but he’s seen me go through some crap including my last divorce (and by that, I mean both the very last one I’m going to do AND the second one as opposed to the first one.)

He was supportive of me getting back out into the dating pool this summer, but not of my choice in women.  He thought that I wasn’t making good choices because of who I was with. It’s fair criticism. I had broke pattern a bit while with Songbird, but it isn’t fair to blame her. They were my choices to make, and I made them. I’ve always done what was expected, and spent last year pushing the boundaries a bit. I’m going to crush them this year. Being brave enough to try new things is scary. Just stepping outside the circle really takes some effort, and if the Ghost can step over the mountainous walls around himself and try some new stuff, anyone can.

So, while I’m texting Neckbrace, I notice a rather interesting post on Facespace. One of my buddies has checked in at a local strip club for “Birthday Tits”. So, I text him to see how long they’ll be out and tell them I’ll meet them after work.

I f*cking detest strip clubs. Which some of you may find really odd, since Songbird was an exotic dancer. Strip clubs represent everything that’s wrong with this world. The girls pretend to care/be attracted to their customers, their customers pay them to do this.  So the customers are USING these girls, and the girls are LYING to their customers. I abhor being lied to and detest being used even more.

(So, wait a minute, how the hell were you dating an exotic dancer/stripper then?)

Well, I had to examine some personal opinions that I held, and really take a look at how I processed information and treated people.

First, I had to unlearn everything I know about life. Primarily, that what a person does for a living defines who they are. One of my biggest problems has been dealing with layoffs. I’ve had some really good jobs, and some amazing perks. When I wasn’t able to replace that position with a comparable one, I felt like less of a person. I was married to a PhD candidate who left me to start dating, BEFORE we were divorced, and had a live-in boyfriend lined up before the ink dried on our divorce. She routinely uses my kids to hurt me, but is highly respected in her field and by people who meet her and hear what she does for a living.

Songbird takes off her clothes for money…but she’s honest about it. The Succubus latched on to this other guy (and is now married to him) and told me when she moved him in, that she couldn’t afford to make ends meet and had to take on a roommate. So basically, what she told me (in my head anyway) is that she’s having sex with a guy that she doesn’t care about to pay the rent. Society is okay with this, but not someone who goes to work and ditches their clothes for a few hours to support themselves?

So in order to believe that I had value more than my current job, I had to separate the identity/attachment that I had been associating with that job. I had to look at the person to evaluate their value. So, I looked to things like how they treated other people.

Songbird never appeared to use me for anything, and just genuinely seemed to enjoy my company. People said crap like ‘How cute we were together’ and they knew it was serious ‘By the way we looked at each other’. You should have seen her around her “nephew”. She loved the little bugger and you could tell. There were a few places in her life where you could see her put down the act, and see her for who she really was. Like the night I met her. We met at a holiday BBQ at a mutual friends home. She was smart, funny, a giant smart-ass, and as dumb as this sounds….she was cute, but I didn’t immediately think, My God is she beautiful. But, she is very attractive. It wasn’t what I was initially attracted to.

I find it funny that some of my other friends: fat ones, gay ones, ugly ones, etc… People who are treated differently, will talk about “strippers” like they aren’t human. Do they engage in activities that most other people would not? Sure. But my gay friends do some stuff that I’m never going to do, does that mean that I should treat them like they’re sub-human?

I’m supposed to be a Christian. That Jesus cat spent a lot of time talking to the drunks and criminals. Maybe I understand that a little better. People who society looks down  upon, usually get treated like they aren’t real people. I want to make sure that I’m not doing that.

So, like I told Songbird in our last discussion. She’ll always be more than “Tits and Tattoos” to me. I guess you have to ask yourself. What do you see when you look at people? Do you see long hair, leather and a motorcycle and think bad person? Do you see attractive woman, too much make-up and think slut? Do you see someone driving a beat-up car, wearing worn clothing and think less of them?

I really think that as a society, we need to reevaluate the materialistic crap standards we use to value people. I could give a rats ass if you bagged groceries, stripped or practiced law to pay your bills. How you look at me and treat me is how I’m going to value you.

If you count yourself as a fan of the show Firefly, and you found yourself rooting for the Captain of the ship to finally end up with the professional “companion” (A.K.A. Prostitute), or if you watched and enjoyed the movie Pretty Woman, and you found yourself asking, “Why would Ghost be so hung up on his relationship with a stripper?” Shame on you, and maybe you need to reexamine YOURSELF.

As for me, I’m going to remember those times where she looked at me like I was the only guy in the room. The times where she crawled up to me and fell asleep on my chest. The time where I was walking out the door, and even though she tried like hell to not let her guard down, she answered “I love you too” when I told her that I loved her. The time when we broke up and she said with tears in her eyes, “You were supposed to let me fall asleep on you.”

So, you’re probably wondering where I was going with that. My boy was out last night on his bday in the strip club. I think I’m going to call him MoonSox. He’s got all these naked women around him, booze on the table. Hell, one of the guys tossed 200 singles on the table. But this poor bastard couldn’t enjoy himself. His “complicated” Facespace relationship told me everything that I needed to know.

He’s getting texts from this girl saying she’s at home/whatever, and people are all but flat out telling him that this girl is cheating on him, but he’s sitting there, just refusing to admit it to himself and you can tell he knows. We finally go to leave, and he and I are chatting in the car. Stories so similar it isn’t funny. Previous bad marriages, finances in shambles, living back home with mothers who are having trouble making ends meet….both seriously f*cked up over a girl.  (Admittedly, I’m in a far better place then MoonSox….I think?)

I’ve never understood the mindset of the cheater. Be kind. Let someone down before you move on.

We ended up at a bar where they were doing Karaoke, and this drunk/messed up guy appeared for a minute to forget about the BS going on. He rocked ‘Play That Funky Music White Boy”, and was talking to the buy in the booth….and this chick comes up behind him and “Pants”‘s him. Not just his jeans either, she got it all, and he’s standing there bare-assed. (Now you now why I’m calling him MoonSox.) So he keeps trying to retaliate, and the girl is playing defense on her belt….and then something hilarious happened…He grabbed the front of her shirt and tried to pull it over her head. He only succeeded in showing the bar her bra, but as he walked away, she says, ‘Hell, that’s no big deal.” And then lifts her shirt and bra up and shows the whole bar her TaTas.

And on that note, I laughed a few times and excused myself. Now I didn’t mind paying cover to see those breasts. They were flashed willingly. Honestly.

Anyway, hoping for MoonSox to get things figured out. I understand being invested and not wanting to pull the plug on a girl who has shown you flashes of her brilliant soul. But, the choices she’s deciding to make will torture you. If she can’t give a shit enough about herself to value what she has invested in you…it’s time to end that joint venture and move on brother. Like someone told me recently…you’re supposed to be f*cked up about it, that means you were doing it right.  It will get better. Hang in there.

Time to start my day and get out there to kick that ass.

Ghost out…