Geek Life, June 2014 Edition.

I make no bones about the fact that I am an unabashed geek. I revel in it, in point of fact. I know movie and pop culture trivia, I collect geeky things like nobody's business, and I delight in the things I find fascinating.

The latest manifestation of this?

I bought the Lego Ecto-1 release and spent two hours building it last Sunday, before a party of Smash Brothers and Cards Against Humanity with my girlfriend, her sister and numerous mutual friends.

The Lego car was a special release, submitted to Lego by a fan and approved for sale starting last Sunday. I showed up at the store within 10 minutes of it opening, only to learn that people had been waiting TWO HOURS before the store opened. Thankfully, Lego figured out that this would be, as Ron Burgundy put it, "kind of a big deal."

The car sits upon my entertainment center now, as part of what will be a complete tribute to my favorite comedy of all time that currently includes the original movie on Blu-Ray, 4 figures of the cast released with the car, and a 30th Anniversary commemorative poster from Thinkgeek. (Oh, and when the 30th Anniversary release/25th Anniversary "Ghostbusters 2" release comes out? All kinds of on top of that.)

This is one of my geek things. The best part is, I'm not alone. My girlfriend is a hardcore gamer. My best friend is the guy who got me into Wetwired back in the day. My closest friend here has a toy set that eclipses my own... barely.

My own escapades into geekdom aren't limited to that. My Blu-ray selection numbers in the hundreds, not to mention the DVDs. My computer is a gaming rig with multiple monitors to watch Big Brother during the summer. I have collector's edition Masterpiece Transformers and Star Trek Starships. For Chrissakes, there is a poster on my wall called "The 56 Geeks,' drawn by a web cartoonist whose podcasts are my favorite things to listen to weekly. And I'm still barely scratching the surface.

The greatest geek thing I have, though, is much simpler than that. I have the love of a geek gamer who, when she first walked into my apartment and saw the man-child I clearly showed myself to be, said "cool." She gets me, plain and simple.

We've already talked marriage, by the way. We're waiting for her to finish school at the end of next year, but we've already committed to each other. It's as close to an engagement as you can get without rings, I suppose - but it's one of the best things I have going for me at this point.

So, I've got that going for me. Which is nice.

Out.

There, But For The Grace...

For a while, I worried it could have been me.

 

Reading the articles and seeing the news of the Isla Vista shootings this past weekend, I first became enraged that some asshole had done the unthinkable - once again. As I continued to see the news and learned more about Elliot Rodger, I became sickened.

 

Here was a guy who had taken a lifetime of perceived rejection and crystalized it into a manifesto of hatred towards the women who'd told him no - and his rage that he had been rejected, that he'd deserved to get everything (and I use thing, given his views on women as things to be conquered) he'd wanted and his rather potent rage at not getting it. Here was a guy who decided to take this rage out on innocents, and in the process exposed himself as a severely sick man whose family had attempted to help him as best they could, but ultimately and unfortunately failed.

 

Here was someone who, save for chemical differences in the brain... could have been me.

 

At least, that's what I had thought at first.

 

 

..........................

 

 

I was a virgin until I was 25 - partly because of my own social discomforts, partly because I'd given up on really trying to get out there, and partly because I didn't feel worthy of anything real in a relationship with anyone, much less a sexual relationship with a woman. When you grow up overly critical of yourself and nearly crippled when it comes to self confidence, you make very easy excuses for why you haven't tried to have anything real with another person. It makes it easy to say that there must be SOME reason why you haven't found the right person yet.

 

The difference, it turns out, between myself and Elliot Rodgers is that Elliot placed the blame on a vast conspiracy of women who were united against him. I placed the blame on myself, and some perceived sense that I was not worthy of happiness with someone else.

 

For the longest time, I had the honest belief that I wasn't worthy of happiness. I thought that because of decisions I'd made in the past, I was going to be alone. It took many years of growth to get past this, and several stumbling blocks along the way.

 

One of those stumbling blocks was an awkward attempt to be "cute" that to this day, I regret heavily. A friend of mine, a woman whom I hold in high regard, was talking to me on Skype and I acted boorishly. She took it in stride, and even found a way to have her girlfriend (yes, you read that right - like I said, not proud of this one bit) eventually crack wise on me later on. I have apologized to her since, but every once in a while the memory of this sticks out in my head.

 

It came back up in my head again this weekend, with the #YesAllWomen hashtag being put out there on Twitter and the massive response it had. I read through some of these comments, feeling sickened for what women have had to deal with and concerned if I was a part of the problem, rather than growing to be a part of the solution. I eventually asked my girlfriend this morning if I ever treated her poorly. "No, you haven't." The response made me feel good, and we talked for several minutes about this and where my question had come from.

 

I feel confident that today, I can and do treat women with the respect they deserve - not as women, but as human beings trying to get through this world. I feel confident that at 35, I am a mature adult male who knows far better how to interact with others than I did at 22, but I also feel confident in the fact that it took a lot of growing up and some serious self-analysis to get me here. I had to learn how to treat myself better, and once I did I learned how to treat others better.

 

That was part of the difference. Now, I also realize that where someone like me and Elliot Rodger differ is that his brain was truly miswired. Rodger's mind was so warped by illness and misplaced rage that was channeled and crystallized that he found an excuse the kill. However, the main difference is that Rodgers felt that others considered him unworthy.

I thought that I was unworthy, despite what others told me.

 

 

..........................

 

 

I will never understand why people see the act of killing innocents as a viable option. I will never get who someone would see such a vast conspiracy without understanding that the only common element in everyone treating you poorly is, in fact, you. I will never understand why Elliot Rodger felt the act of killing 6 people and injuring more was the best option he had.

 

I suppose there's hope for me after all, if I can't understand any of that.

 

Out.

Out Of The Darkness, And Into The Light.

Writing has always been something of a warm blanket for me. It comforts, makes me feel whole and in general makes me happy. The desertion of this blog for the past 2.5 years notwithstanding, I've always enjoyed writing.

Now, as I am approaching the return to writing more personal works through this blog I suppose the question that must be asked is simply "why? Why get back into writing personal stuff, and why now?"

Well, it's kinda simple - I'm not in the same place I was the last time I decided to write something at all. The last time I wrote on this blog, I had just finished celebrating a beautiful event with two friends I hold dear - their wedding. I came away from that feeling wonderful for them, but terribly alone. Seeing them happy made me realize what I was missing, more than ever.

So, things have definitely changed - and assuredly, for the better. Thus, here's a short list of things I've done since then.

1 - I found the love of my life.

Okay, gotta start by not burying the lede. After the wedding, I got into dating online moreso than I had before. I had a few short relationships, two lasting a couple months each. One lady was nice, but things just didn't work out as lovers though we remain friends to this day.

The other... well, the less said about that the better. Let's just say that I've learned the fun of a breakup via text.

However, these did help because they helped me figure out what I WAS looking for in a partner. About six months after the bad breakup... I found it.

She's wonderful. She's the person whom I am most comfortable with, and vice-versa. I'm the person who she trusts to drive her anywhere, and we have spent more time together than apart. She's still a college student (though only a couple years younger than me - she went back to school) so we're waiting for her to finish college before we take the next step.

2 - I started writing for another website, and run a radio show for them.

So, this is where the bulk of my long-form writing has been dedicated. Now, the caveat?

It's for a reality show. Big Brother, in this case. It's also the most fun I've had writing in ages. I get to talk to other superfans, and my work is appreciated to boot. The radio show was a bit of a natural progression, and I went from "frequent caller" to "co-host" to "host" over the course of three years.

Those of you familiar with my previous podcasting work know I have no problem talking. This just happens to be about a topic I really enjoy, every week.

3 - I've been writing a FUCKTON of stuff on Facebook under my real name.

Yeah, no surprise there.

4 - I've built a few car models.

...

Next.

5 - I've been generally happier with myself and life.

This one's the one I'm most content with over the last couple years. To be at peace of late has been refreshing, frankly.

So, that's where I'm at right now. The questions of the beginning haven't been answered, though. Why get back into this at all, and why now?

Well... I think I've got something in the tank, and I have some things to say. I want to do so with the anonymity of this site, so that I can be a bit more protective of my real life and whatnot. With State of Mind, I can do exactly that.

So, consider this a refresh - a restart. I'll eventually archive/delete the old stuff, and start writing new stuff here. You may well see any number of topics covered here, and you may even see some fiction from time to time. I'm trying to stretch some muscles here that haven't been used in a while, and there will be stumbling blocks to overcome.

Still, if you'll have me then I'll take you along for the ride.

Welcome to the new State of Mind, In Exile.

Out.

Updates From the Dawn.

Yeah, I know.

Okay, so a few things have happened since my last post. The short version...

- I turned 33, and it went well.
- I married two lovely women in Nyack, NY.
- I started a profile on an online dating site, and I've been having some success.
- I figured out the secret of life. Yes, really.
- Football has been AWESOME.
- Pylorns turned 33.
- The world has continued moving forward. Life still goes on.

There will be long versions in the future, but this is just a quick recap. We'll talk again soon.

Out

And She Was There.

The reaction one can have to an experience can be surprising.

I mean, let's face it- most of us are pretty fucked up in some way, shape or form. The vast majority of us are pretty good at hiding that, but sometimes that way in which we're fucked up bubbles to the surface and exposes us for the human beings we actually are. For me, it was about 15 minutes ago.

Unsurprisingly, it was about a woman. The surprising part was for whom this happened, because I can safely say I hadn't thought about her in a long while.

..............................................

I went to an all-boys high school that was a block away from an all-girls school, the Academy. In my junior year, I had to go across the street for French III, as my school didn't offer the class. the first day, I found out two key things. First, was that French III was the exact same class as the French II I'd taken the year before. The second was that I was sitting next to Amy.

Amy was a brunette, short (though not too short) and slim with a dry sense of humor and a wicked beautiful pair of eyes. I quickly learned that Amy and I had similar senses of humor and often spent part of class simply talking to her about any number of topics. To say I developed a crush wouldn't be too far off base, as would be somewhat expected of any high school kid towards whom a cute girl shows any sort of attention.

I also learned about her boyfriend. Good guy, in my class back at the other school. Everything about him seemed pretty decent, which is why (as would develop later on as a clear pattern in life) I put aside my own feelings and buried them to ensure things would stay good.

After that year, Amy and I didn't see each other much. This wasn't surprising, either- we moved in different social circles, and while I was playing football and prepping for college she was living her own life. I saw her a few times while still in school, then at their graduation the day before my senior trip.

After that, I would see her two more times in my life. The first time was at a McDonald's back in Baton Rouge, in passing. By that point she was married to the high school sweetheart and expecting. I was happy to see her, wished her well and promptly didn't think about her for several years.

Until last night, that is.

..............................................

Last night was my 15th High School reunion. Much like the 10th, the reunion was held alongside the Academy's reunion. I had driven down from The OKC for this- what the hell else was I going to do in OK in August?

The week before the reunion, I was running ragged trying to get stuff done and see people while I was here. The night of the reunion itself, I showed up at the restaurant/bar that served as the hosts for the classes. Over the next two hours, I had a blast. I mean it, folks- I was able to let my hair down and have a good time with the folks I'd graduated with, and in the process reaffirmed the knowledge I'd gained at my 10th that I was apparently a LOT more popular in high school than I'd remembered.

Everything was going great, and then I saw her.

Amy looked the same as I'd seen her in high school- oh, there was some slight aging around the eyes but those eyes were still as beautiful as I'd remembered. She was alone, it seemed- I didn't see her husband anywhere in the room but she was still wearing a wedding ring. One must therefore assume that her availability was still listed as "not."

What surprised me at that moment was seeing her and realizing how big a crush I'd had on her before then. I always knew I had a thing for her back in the day, but I apparently wasn't aware of it until last night. After a few minutes I approached her. "Excuse me, aren't you Amy ###?"

She turned and smiled "Yes- oh, hey!"

She remembered me, despite the different look and passage of time. She told me about herself and her life- married still, couple of small kids, very happy. I told her about mine- single, living away, working for The Job.

And in that moment, for a brief moment in time- I wished I was a different person.

I wished I was someone who couldn't respect the relationship someone was in so that I could make my move. I wished I was a worse person than I really am, because had the opportunity presented itself and I was less of a person than I am I would have pursued something last night. I would have tried to make my move and the person I am now would have regretted it for the rest of his life had it ruined someone else's life.

We separated, and I didn't speak to her again that night. After another 40 minutes or so I left the reunion, partly because I was really tired but partly because I could feel the mood of the room changing. What had been a decent gathering and party was about to change, as the restaurant was opening its doors for other patrons and our exclusive group was about to be changed.

I said my goodbyes to a few people, and left. Making it back to my sister's place where I was staying for the week, I ended up crashing a couple hours later.

Cut to this morning, about 30 minutes ago. I woke up early, unsurprisingly. Laying in bed, a sudden feeling of loneliness overwhelmed me and I realized where it came from.



She'll never read this- no one that was there last night will, since they don't know about the blog. That being said, I had to get these thoughts out about the first real crush and what seeing her last night did for me.

So, what now?

I don't know, to be honest. I mean, clearly nothing will come of the encounter last night and nothing in her behavior towards me indicated anything other than a good life with her family. I guess now is when I take that regret and carry it with me, much as I have done with so many before now. It builds character, I've heard.

I think I'm tired of having so much character.

Out.

No, S.I.R.

For the past week, I've been listening to SModcast Internet Radio and giving it a chance. I've listened to Kevin Smith and his crew perform what he refers to as "college radio in his home."

And something's been bugging me about it.

Understand, I'm a huge fan of Smith and his podcast network. My favorite podcast every week is "Hollywood Babble-On" which Smith does with Ralph Garman, and the hour-ish that I spend with it every week is one of the highlights of said week. SModcast itself is very funny, and the entire network revolves around Smith's world. The podcast he performs with his wife, known as "Plus One," is as funny as it is touching at times.

So when I say that I'm becoming a non-fan of S.I.R., understand it's not an easy thing to say.

Truth be told, it sucks to admit that. I've gone from listening to the shows (in this case "Plus One Per Diem" and "Jay and Silent Bob Get Jobs") live to getting the podcasts, to unsubscribing from one of the podcasts outright. I still listen to Per Diem, but I'm about to cancel it as well.

And up until tonight, I couldn't figure out what it was that was turning me off. I only realize now that there are several factors that are turning me away from the live shows. In no particular order...

1- No filter means no editing. Kevin Smith is a wodnerful storyteller when sober, and a pretty good one when stoned. (Which he is now. A lot- and to his credit, he talks about it all the time.) However, you can tell that his podcasts do come edited when they hit your iTunes or RSS feed. There are subtle cuts, and the tightening up of the podcast helps out in keeping things flowing. On the live shows, there is no filter- Smith appears to be his own producer, save for the technical portion of the show done by someone off-mike. There's no one telling him that he's rambling or going too long on a story or tangent. This is not to say that his cohosts are syncophants- quite the opposite, in fact. Smith's wife Jennifer is more than happy to cut him off or at least attempt to do so, but Smith still needs someone separate or from the business that can rein him in.

2- Too Much Music. Kevin is in love with music playing underneath the talking. This wouldn't be too bad- and as someone who listened to the old Wetwired podcasts can attest I like the idea as well. However, the music is VERY distracting- not just to the listeners, but to Smith himself. There are countless times where Smith gets distracted by the music to the point of throwing him off his story, which often leads to a small argument with his wife about keeping on track. The music needs to either be turned down or shortened.

3- The Ads Are Too Long. S.I.R. is ad-supported- which is fine. Perfectly understandable, in fact- this is a costly endeavor, and no one should expect Smith to foot the bill. The ads have even turned me onto several nifty products and whatnot out there. However, Smith runs WAY long on the ads- several minutes on an ad that could easily take 30 seconds to a minute because he either gets distracted by his own pot-fueled tangents or his cohost jumps in. If Jen (or Jay) do the ads themselves, Kevin jumps in and throws the ads off the rails. Doing the ads is a great idea- but the finished product is a turnoff. The ads need to be tightened up, big time.

Finally, there's what I feel is the biggest factor:

4- The Pot. I want to reiterate- Kevin Smith is a funny, funny man. He's an outstanding storyteller. But when he's high, he's occasionally overly self-indulgent on his own words. When edited, this isn't a problem. When unedited and live, it leads to rambling and occasional incoherence. We're not talking Charlie Sheen- more to the point of Tommy Chong. He needs to lighten up on teh pot a little. Sober Kevin Smith produces "An Evening With Kevin Smith," which has several classic stories about his life in film. Stoned Kevin Smith produces "Too Fat For Forty-" which had ONE story. There's a big, big difference.

I love the SModcast podcast network. I love listening to his produced and edited works. But I'm going to have to give S.I.R. a pass for now. I'll try it again in the future.

Out.

Horrification.

I've known Tim since he started working at The Job. Nice guy.

VERY tall. I'm at six feet, and he towered over me any time we'd see each other in the office. Not only that, but the dude shaved his head and had a goatee. If you wanted the picture of "dude who could intimidate me physically," Tim's your man. And yet, Tim would be one of the nicest guys you'd meet.

Naturally, when he met me he thought I was a prick.

Fortunately, I changed his mind.

We'd gotten to know each other over the past 3-4 years and he told me about his life. He came from a construction background, knew enough about our industry to come in as a rep and rose in the ranks to become a rather well-respected guy. Easily likeable, seemed pretty stable.

A few minutes ago, I was informed he died this weekend from a self-inflicted gunshot wound.

...


This post is partially my way of processing the news, and partly a way for me to confess to my complete and total inability to understand the concept of suicide.

I've suffered from depression at various times in my life, to the point where I've felt I couldn't go any lower. I've had some pretty dark thoughts come through my mind- but as soon as they have, the rational part of my brain would kick in. (It's an unfortunate effect of what I think is low-grade sociopathy, but I digress.) I would be unable to accept the illogic of taking one's own life. It just didn't seem sensible, rational or logical in any sense of the words.

And yes, I am well aware that none of those words enter into it. Suicide is the ultimate expression of the Id and Ego winning out over the Superego. It's the brain saying "I can no longer accept the possibility of being a person inhabiting this world."


Today is a world that is a little lesser. I'm heading into the office, to see if I can help with anything- it's what I do (which I think counteracts my more sociapathic tendencies, my willingness to help in times of pain) and all I can do. Since Tim wouldn't or couldn't accept help or life at the end, it's up to those he left behind to help and support each other.

It's all we can do.

Out.

Random Musings, May 2011 Edition.

I don't always know what I want to write about, but there are times I just want to write. This is one of those times, I suppose, and this may end up being a ramble or something important, but i know only that I want to write.

So, here goes.

I have one follower- that's it, and I'm not sure she even reads this stuff when i post it. So, it isn't like I'm writing to an audience except for someone who may find the blog by accident.

My brother gets married at the end of the month, and in some ways i think i resent that a little bit. I'm the last of the siblings to be single, and the second oldest. this means that now, I'm either looked at as "aw, how sad he hasn't found someone yet" or "do you think he's... you know?"

The truth is far more complex, I guess. I've had a total of three real adult relationships since I was 23. Now, I've fallen for several women over that time. The girl who was in love with her boyfriend who one night called me to talk about if she should keep things going with him, and in my stupid honorable state I advised that if she loved him she needed to make sure whatever she did was the right decision (they've been married 6 years now, with a child), The woman who I fell hard for when I moved here, who'd been hurt before (figuratively and quite literally) who didn't want to deal with a "project" like I was at the time. (To be fair, I was a miserable wreck at the time.) The woman back home that flirted casually with me, and I back- that one was done the time I hung out with her and she spent more time looking at her phone than talking to me.

There are others, but real relationships? Three. All real, all physical and all in which the endings were very, very different.

Of the three, the most recent was the one I felt the worst about. She had fallen for me, hard. I had met her overseas, and the attraction turned into a physical and emotional relationship. I fell for her, sure. Pretty deep, in fact- but the truth of the situation was that after a few weeks I would be returning home and the probability of being with her again after I left was incredibly low.

So, after a couple months of  the "long distance" attempt I decided I would call it off.

...

That was one of the most painful nights of my life, because I knew I was hurting this woman who didn't deserve pain. I had reinforced her fears about men, because I wasn't able to be a better person. I'm not proud of that, at all.

Before her was the married woman.

I'm not really proud of that one, at all. She and I had an emotional connection before anything. She was not a physically attractive woman, but her personality was enticing and the intellectual chemistry was there, big time. That went on for a couple months, before I told her that I couldn't go any further. In the parking lot at The Job, I told her that the reason I never had sex with her (this was true, we'd been physical but never fully went all the way) was because in my head, that was the line I couldn't cross with her while she was married. I told her I could be her friend, but I couldn't go beyond that at this point while there was someone else. She took it well, surprisingly.

before then was another girl from overseas- this one ended because of serious maturity issues on her part. Two trips over here, one during the holidays. That ended after she trashed the hospitality my family and friends had shown her, and her answer to that was "I'm sorry if you're upset."

She spent the rest of that trip in a hotel about 60 miles away.

Beyond that, I don't date. I have the built-in excuse of "Well, I work a lot and at night so that really cuts down on dating" but that's just an excuse. The truth is, it's tough being around people.

Let me be clear. I am far more sociable nowadays than I used to be. Compare me to a decade ago, and I'm a virtual gadfly. However, I still have trouble being around people. Put me in a situation where romantic possibility exists, and it's even worse.

It goes beyond being shy, really. It's as if i can't allow myself to be more open to someone else. If I'm friends with them, I am more open- but even then, I still put on an act to others. There are a very select few people to whom I am completely myself. The Inner Circle, as I refer to them. They're the closest people I have to me, and they're the ones who see the me that isn't "on."

Pylorns and Beerslinger are in the group. Collotype slowly became part of that, over time. I have a couple of friends back home that still qualify, and my grandmother is in that group too. beyond that, there are maybe one or two other people I could consider in The Inner Circle. Everyone else sees some level of an act- I put on a face for them so that there is less to worry about or deal with. After all, if i am always joking around them and always seem in a better place than i really am, it's less hassle from them.

Don't get me wrong- I'm not in any sort of horrible place. But I've reached the point where being alone now has an aspect of being lonely. That's somewhat new, and it sucks.

------------------------------------------

I think I've reached the point in my life where I do want to have children, eventually.

That's very new, comparatively speaking. I didn't always want children, by any stretch. Children didn't hold any appeal to me as part of any sort of legacy, until a couple of years ago. Something changed though, around a couple of years ago. I was in a relationship, and had a pregnancy scare with the girl overseas. It ended up being just a scare, but when she told me she might be pregnant I found myself surprisingly serene with the idea, even somewhat okay with it. There would be tremendous challenges getting the family together, but if it happened we would make it work.

I think part of what turned that relationship downwards was when it turned out she wasn't pregnant and it was stress causing her problems. The loss of that possibility soured me a little bit.

the most surprising thing to me to come from that was how open i was to the idea of having a child with someone. I had always thought that I wasn't emotionally ready for such a thing, but the door seemed to be open now.

That's pretty cool to realize.

------------------------------------------


In three weeks, I fly up to Wisconsin to take part in my brother's wedding. I'm going alone, which is a disappointment. In October, I officiate another wedding for Collotype and her fiancee. Collotype wants to set me up with her someone there, she says.

We'll see.

I'm of the belief that the future is going to be better than the present. Things aren't bad now per se, but things will get better. I have a better outlook on things than I used to, and that's a big start.

Out.

A Healthy First Amendment.

"The louder they bellyache, the better. Because then and only then- we know exactly where these people are. We can listen to them and, God forbid, actually communicate with them. This way they can't ferment like bad yeast and ooze out of the brew vat when we're not looking. No First Amendment produces Hitler. Healthy First Amendment produces David Duke. There's a big difference here."


- Dennis Miller, "Dennis Miller Live"

 
I find the Westboro Baptist Church abhorrent. I feel like they are scum-sucking assbags who manipulate the law and abuse the rights of Americans to promote their agenda of hatred towards gays. I feel that they are the worst kind of troll, a group of people who feed on the grief of others for their own purposes. I feel like they abuse the First Amendment to show just how despicable they are.
 
Thanks to the First Amendment, they have the right to do what they do.
 
And thanks to the First Amendment, I have the right to deride and mock them.
 
...
 
You have to understand, there is literally no part of their message that I agree with. I find that it's incredibly unfortunate that they have the right to spew hatred and destroy the one moment for families that should be their own- the burial of a child, sibling or parent. Their methods are disgusting, and their efforts are worsened by the fact that the media in general feels compelled to cover these "protests."
 
And yet... and yet, as a citizen of the United States I have to unfortunately agree with the Supreme Court's rulign that they have the right to protest.
 
It's the same reason I feel that the Supremes were right in ruling for Larry Flynt. If the first amendment protects the ability of the worst of us to say things that are disgusting yet protected, then I know it will protect me when I disagree with the worst of us.
 
So, it's with understand that I am protected by the First Amendment when I say that I humbly ask the Westboro Baptist Church, the Phelps family and anyone who agrees with their message to please-
 
Go fuck yourselves.
 
Out.

Okay, So New Addition To The List Of Things To Do Before Collotype's Wedding:

- Lose another 30 pounds... again.

I seem to have gotten back to RIGHT under 250, and I want to get a good suit for the wedding since I'll be performing it and want to look damn good. So, I need to start eating better and losing weight again.

Fuck.

I hate having to eat well and eat less and move around more.

Out.