This site contains no nudity. You should be grateful for that, after seeing how many home movies I have here. This site does, however, contain a fair amount of profanity, especially the 'blog entries. I could go back and change everything to give the site a more family-friendly rating but I don't fucking want to.

So, if you're under 18 years old, then you should leave this site, and get off my lawn. If you're an adult, yet offended by adult language, it would probably be a good idea for you to leave also.

Still here? Cool. I imagine that, like most visitors to my site, you've simply stumbled here via some obscure search and now you're wondering what's the fastest way out.

That would be your browser's "back button."

If you're too horrified to look away, however, I invite you to stick around and see what my little corner of the Internet has to offer.

There I am, cruising along with my life, appreciating people, sometimes even *gasp* liking people.

But then it happens. They say stuff or they do stuff, and I realize - I've been dealing with one of those people all along. They made me feel like a fool, because I never even suspected that they were one of those people until it was too late. I was already emotionally invested.

Those fucking people, I hate them so much. Always saying that stuff and doing those things. I don't know how they can even stand to be around themselves, let alone expect others to tolerate their presence.

Those people suck. I think I'd wish they would all just die, but I'm afraid that might me too mean of a wish. So, instead, I just wish all those people would go away. Maybe go live on a fucking island, far far away, somewhere with others of their kind.

As long as I never had to see or talk to one of those people again as long as I lived, I think I'd be pretty happy.

Sometimes I say things or, more rarely, do things. Things that might not be totally selfless. Things that, on the surface at least, aren't obviously bad, but that are still at least a little bit suspect.

Why did he just say that? people might ask.

What does he mean? people might wonder.

What's he doing now? people might question.

I think it's usually subconscious for me, when I do some of the things I do, and say some of the things I say. I mean, I don't hardly ever intend to do/say these things - they just happen. And then, once they've happened, I'm fucking glad that they did.

I was thinking tonight about certainty.

Some synonyms: assurance, certitude, confidence, conviction, positiveness, surety

Some antonyms: ambiguity, doubt, hesitation, questionableness, tergiversation

It seems to me that we all go through our lives with an almost unbearable amount of uncertainty. Our jobs, our families, our friends, our lovers - none are open books. All harbor secrets or, if not really secrets, at least knowledge that hasn't been uncovered. Questions that haven't been answered or even, in many cases, asked.

Will this last?

What does that mean?

Have I blown it?

What just happened?

Sometimes, I do things or say things. Things that, I hope, either reduce or, ideally, eliminate uncertainty about the way that I feel. And why I feel the way that I feel. About the way that I intend and expect to always feel, forever and ever.

Purposeful or not, intentional or not, planned or not, these things that I sometimes do and say - they all have at their core the one thing that's the most important to me as I struggle to keep my head above water through these turbulent times.

They are all the absolute truth.

If, for example, I say that I always want to see a certain person then that's exactly what it means. There's no ambiguity in the word always. It means what it means, Weird and unsettling as it may be, it's still the absolute truth. It's still a certainty.

I've spent so much time without any certainty about the things that are most important to me. I hate hate hate fucking hate the thought of some people being uncertain as to my intentions, or my feelings, or my motives.

I fucking hate that thought. So sometimes I say things, and sometimes I do things. Things that just might help to clarify things, to answer some of those nagging yet unasked questions.

In case you haven't figured it out yet, I'm in a weird mood. I can thank New Holland Night Tripper (68) for this mood.

To be honest, I don't remember an awful lot about Saturday night between about 7:00 and about 11:00. But I'll start writing anyway and maybe it'll all come rushing back to me.

---

After LaptopGirl left, I think that was about when I started my fourth Dirty Helen. (322). I'd been considering maybe possibly thinking about going to Louisville, but that fourth beer pretty much put that idea on hold. Not that I really wanted to go anyway. LaptopGirl might come back, she'd said.

I'd somehow managed to grab the throne. I don't remember moving there. LaptopGirl and I'd sat on the loveseat when she was there.

Anyway, I was on the throne, just kind of vegging out. Then NotHideousGirl came in. It was very cool to see her, arm in a sling and all.

I didn't word that correctly. The sling part wasn't cool. I meant to say that it was cool to see her despite the sling.

At one point, MusicalYuppieDude came in. I think that was about when I ordered my fifth Dirty Helen (342).

So the three of us talked about random bullshit. The place was pretty dead - just the way I like it. I don't think anyone bothered us except this one dude that's always mooching cigarettes off everyone.

I switched to Diet Cokes at about 8:30 or so. I still felt fine, actually. I just knew that another beer would result in my not feeling fine. So I cut myself off.

Then, at about 10:00, I had an interesting phone conversation. At 10:30 or so, I left Rich O's to go to Louisville.

And then some stuff happened, and some other stuff didn't happen.

For one thing, I got pee on me.

You don't have to tell me that it's kinda silly for me to be here now. And by here I mean the red room at Rich O's, and by now I mean 3:30 on a beautiful Saturday afternoon. You don't have to tell me, because I sort of already know it. But what I also know is that I've got a damn good reason for being here. Now.

I'm supposed to meet LaptopGirl here at 5:00, to tell her something which she already knows. Not that one thing which she already knows, silly. Another thing. I need to tell her that her computer is probably on its last legs.

Anyway, I got bored at home and I didn't want to start anything new at 3:00, so I came down here instead. And now I'm sitting and writing and enjoying a Barley Island Dirty Helen (262). But mostly, I'm waiting. I do that a lot, it seems.

So this morning, after I took care of some bullshit exciting challenges for work, I took my Monte Carlo to get its oil changed. That wasn't particularly interesting except that this one dude kept bugging me to sell my car to him. Not gonna happen, OilChangeDude, so back the fuck off.

After that, I drove around for a while. I checked out the new NABC brewery location. Not much to see except for this one temporary banner thingy. I took a picture:

Then I went down to the other side of the floodwall and looked at the river for a while. That place used to seem so isolated when I was a teenager. Now it's some kind of stupid park. They've got fucking bandstands and bleachers and shit. Plus, it's closed at night. Much slaking used to take place there at night. I wonder where people go now, when they want to slake.

Then I went to Polly's Freeze for lunch. And I got to sit at my favorite table, so that was cool.

Next I drove to Lanesville. I'd decided that I was apparently retracing my childhood in reverse-order. I mean with the floodwall and Polly's. With the oil-change place and the brewery, not so much. So I went to this park in Lanesville where I used to play until I was six and we moved away. It used to be a pretty shitty (hey, poet and don't know it) park. And I suppose it's still shitty. But they keep adding new buildings to the place. They're all locked, though. Maybe that's where they keep all the cool stuff.

I took pictures of this slide. I can't believe it's still here after all these years. I'd have thought it would have rusted into a heap by now. This slide was always scary as fuck to me, when I'd climb up those shaky chains and then pull and contort myself between the bars to the platform. It was worth it, though, because the sliding-down part was really cool.

Next I drove to my old house there in Lanesville. I keep hoping to see somebody in the yard, but I never have, and today was no different.

Next I went home for a bit, but I got bored and came here to Rich O's.

Oh yeah, now I'm having my second Dirty Helen (282) and it's yummy.

So there.

I'll admit, I was a little concerned last night. This dive bar burned to the ground the other morning, and so there was a lot of barless riff-raff in New Albany all of a sudden. So I was concerned that many of those people would infest Rich O's and start doing their drugs in the restroom and start arguments with the bartenders over the lack of swill to drink.

But, if there was any riff-raff there, I didn't see them. It was a fairly nice and relaxing night.

That was the good news. The bad news was that LaptopGirl made only the briefest of appearances. Just enough to whet my appetite. It's okay, though; we're not fighting again. She just had to go back home.

I knew I should have just gone to Covington.

So I spent the bulk of the night sitting at the kiddie table. I started out with a glass of Delirium Tremens (1258) and I followed that up with a couple of pints of Barley Island Dirty Helen (242). All were good. I spent some time talking to SmooshDude, and once he left I moved to the loveseat and talked to PearlGirl and a couple of other chicks. One of the other chicks has been in enough that I will christen her PoolGirl because she's a pool player.

At the end of the night I found myself standing at the end of the bar talking to FutureDude for a while. I came home at midnight or so.

Oh yeah, ActualGeorge was there for a while, too. But he stayed out in the loser section with his family, so I only talked to him for a couple of minutes.

First, I do want to. And I think it's time. But I can't. I was asked to never do it, remember?

---

Monday I finally had the water pump replaced in the Monte Carlo. So now I can actually drive it again. This is beyond cool to me. I even drove it to work today, risking door-dings in the parking garage. Once I get the exhaust repaired (it's a little LOUD) then there'll be nothing wrong with the car except that its owner still won't really be cool enough for it.

---

One of these years I should probably fix the gutter that was torn loose in January.

---

I think I want to go back to Covington this weekend. I seriously doubt that I'll do any such thing, because last time I checked, Covington wasn't located inside Rich O's.

---

On Monday I got to hang out with NormalGirl and RahRahGirl for a while after work. They were dressed to the nines (whatever that means) in sexy slinky black dresses. I don't think I did a very good job of averting my gaze, especially regarding NormalGirl.

---

I've felt myself starting to lose faith in one of my friends. Not that I ever really had any reason to think that I could trust him completely. But lately I've become a little convinced that he'd betray me in a heartbeat. So, I'm getting a little preemptively angry at him. I'm being stupid, I know.

---

Oh yeah, I managed to poke myself in the eye or something last night while I was sleeping. It's been hurting me all day, and it's a lovely shade of red. I hope it doesn't rot and fall out, but if it does then I'm going to get a glass eye that's brown. That way I can walk around with two differently-colored eyes and see if anyone notices.

---

It's midnight and I still have 3/4 of this Marzen (3591) left in my glass. I'd better get to drinking it.

---

I still have better topics that I want to write about. I still can't motivate myself to write, though, so crap like this is all you get for now.

I'm in a weird mood.

Normally this type of mood would mean that I was about to start spouting drivel, but tonight I don't think it's going to happen.

See, I'm not allowed to write about feeling sad, which I'm not, because then people go, WTF happened this time? And I'm certainly not allowed to write about being happy, which I am, because then people go, OMG Dave is off his rocker again!

I could write about generic and/or hilarious things, like tonight's Indiana (preliminary) election results, but my heart's really not in it.

So I think I'll just go to bed. And maybe I'll dream something good that I won't be able to write about.

I just wanted to say that my cat Nugget is psychic.

He sensed that my mood was becoming unsteady, and he jumped into my lap and started licking my arm.

Now, if I can only get him to use his psychic powers to tell me the next winning lottery numbers...

See, this one time, there was this really bad thing that happened. I may have mentioned it from time to time. This bad thing happened, and I died.

It was not murder. It wasn't even manslaughter, though a good attorney might have been able to wrestle a plea bargain from a gullible defendant.

Doesn't matter though. The past has, as they say, passed.

Then, several months later, another really bad thing happened, and I died again. Except that time, the really bad thing didn't just happen. Nope, that time, it was done to me.

That time, I was murdered.

There's really no other way to say it. No acceptable excuse, though a few excuses have auditioned for me. And been rejected outright.

It was done, to me, on purpose. It was premeditated murder. Murder most foul, as I read somewhere in some book I think.

But again, it doesn't matter. The past has passed.

Anyway, what I realized this morning, before it turned into a good day, was that I knew what I was more afraid of than anything else.

It's not the first thing happening again. It's not even the second thing happening again.

It's both things, at the same time.

A part of me expects both these things to happen at any time. Any second now, I expect to check my pulse and discover that I'm dead again. And bullshit like Saturday night only fuels that fear.

I've said it a million times, though perhaps not so wordily; it takes the tiniest of efforts to ease my fears, but it also takes the slightest disregard to create them and feed them and raise them until they're big enough and strong enough to consume me.

Just a little effort. Just a smidgen of empathy, leading to a hint of courtesy. I don't think that's too much.

I know that this is all clear as mud. Can't be helped, I'm afraid.

I have about a million things I want to write about today. But I think I'm just going to start with the one that's a happy thing.

I had a good day today.

First, it was beautiful outside. A little chilly, but that only matters when I'm outside, and I didn't go outside until it had warmed up to a semi-respectable 60 degrees.

Anyway, my day started, predictably enough, checking email and MySpace and Facebook, looking for some clue as to what the fuck happened Saturday night. Well I found no clues, and I started to get a little sad. But then, then I got the nicest distraction ever when HatGirl called me.

HatGirl!

Yay!

I talked to HatGirl for what seemed like a million years of bliss and, by the time our conversation was over, I was no longer in any danger of being sad. At least not for today.

Guess what I did next!

Guess!

Damn, you guys suck at guessing. Fine I'll just tell you. You'd better sit down.

I replaced the window switch in my Monte Carlo!

Yay!

This is the first time in 23,000 years that the windows in my Monte Carlo have actually been controllable from the driver's door. And, it also the first time in 22,000 years that the door panel has been on said door.

Yay!

Oh yeah, after I went to the parts store to buy a switch, but before I went back home, I went to Polly's Freeze for lunch. All of the food was yummy as always. It kinda sucked that some asshole had my favorite table, though. I guess they haven't gotten around to chiseling Reserved for Dave on the table's concrete surface yet.

After I'd returned home, and replaced the window switch (yay!) I realized a couple of things. Thing the first was that it was a really nice day, weather-wise. Thing the second was that I didn't want to go back into my house on such a nice day.

So, I didn't.

I sat in my garage for several hours, totally kicked-back on my el-cheapo white plastic furniture, and I listened to the radio and I drank a couple of yummy beers and I glared at my phone and I thought about someone something wonderful and I smiled and I laughed.

It was a perfect day.

Then the Sun went down, and the temperature dropped 50,000 degrees, and I came back into my stupid house and watched stupid TV.