Wednesday, July 27, 2005

My Love-Hate Relationship With Love & Hate

An Epiphany walked up to me in dialyis tonight, smiled and punched me square in the jaw.

It didn't hurt really, so much as it was a rude awakening to the reality of my situation.

I'm a walking, breathing, crapping, five foot seven mound of Hate just tooling around waiting for something to Hate even more.

Dialysis is fully to blame for this, and I'm not sure what to do about it.

I have a visceral Hate for my job and those in management positions therein. You remember the story I told you about the idiots at the rock station across the hall? On Friday I had food delivered from a new client so I could sample their offerings. The delivery man asked for me by name, but a member of the rock station staff said, "Oh, I'll take care of that."

The receptionist didn't know any better because she's new, so she let this individual carry away my food.

When I found out, the Hate I have for them and all that they have done to me erupted into a few, elementary curse words and apparently grew legs because they introduced themselves to everyone in the vicinity.

I was reprimanded for my actions and nothing was done to the individual who criminally assaulted my appetite.

I Hate every member of the rock station staff and hope that they one day have a debilitating disease that requires painful procedures involving rudimentary hacksaw's and rusty needle nose pliers.

See what I mean? All of the preceding was highly Hateful. I don't consider myself a Hateful person. I feel like a mindless Hate-monger.

I'm really a good guy. I swear. I just do stupid things sometimes, that's all.

As I've documented within the walls of this blog, I also Hate Dialysis.

Tonight, as the procedure proceeded procedurally, I slowly began to lose all Hope. It was taken by Dialysis, shredded into little cheese like shavings, melted, processed into triangle like chip form and then devoured by Dialysis then and there.

"Mmmm. I love freshly baked Hope. Crunchy, with just a hint of Promise."

I haven't really had much of an appetite lately, so I think that's why I felt like a freshly squeezed wash rag. Although fluid was being removed from my body, I could feel tears bubbling to the surface. I placed my hand over my eyes and used my frail fingers to wipe their existence away.

You have to hide them from Dialysis, because He'll bound right in front of you and lick them away with his pointy, split tongue. That's why you have to be careful.

Once it was all over, and all my Hope and Promise had been taken away, all that remained was Hate. Mind-numbing, visceral, all-American run-of-the-mill Hate.

And I Hate myself for feeling this way.

On the drive home I decided to counter the effects of Dialysis and think only of things I truly and unabashadly Love:

--- I Love eating a freshly made, piping hot pepperoni, sausage, mushroom and anchovie pizza all by my lonesome. It feeds my belly as well as my soul.

--- I Love when a beautiful, neckish woman in a sundress smiles as she's walking by. The rest of the day I'm much stronger for the experience.

--- I Love when someone who's treated me poorly gets their comeuppance. Like when the staff at the rock station gets bad ratings. This just happened last week. Karmic retribution is a bitch.

--- I Love lying on the couch in my boxers, eating Cheez-Itz, watching the Pittsburgh Steelers play football on a Sunday afternoon. Truly the only reason to subscribe to cable.

--- I Love swimming underwater for hours at a time. This is the closest I'll ever be to feeling like a dolphin. Or like I'm weightless in space. Pure heaven.

--- I Love cruising in my truck singing along to Frank Sinatra. Alone, I sound like someone's squeezing a poor, innocent kitten. Together, on a duet with Frank, I'm an Official Rat Packer.

--- I Love first kisses. It's a sign of a true and hopeful beginning. And a sign I haven't screwed up the relationship just yet.

--- I Love throwing, catching, diving and utterly making a fool of myself playing frisbee. It should be an Olympic sport. Along with bowling and rollerfucking.

--- I Love writing when I'm in the zone and it's all coming free and naturally. Someday I'll actually write something of merit.

--- I Love sleeping. I'm not very good at it, but every night I make another attempt. One of these days I'll get it right and have the perfect night of sleep.

--- I Love movies. The entire experience at the theater is enthralling. I especially love when a really good movie takes me along and makes me forget my present existence. They should award Oscars on that accomplishment alone.

--- I Love visiting with my family. I have no issues with any of them, so when I hear others complain about theirs, it's all a foreign language to me.

I have no ending for this blog, so I'm going to take a few moments and imagine my Dialysis clinic engulfed in flames.

(Stacy Without an E has a huge smile on his face as he concludes tonight's blog. This is interesting because usually he has to have a naked woman in front of him for this to occur.)

Monday, July 25, 2005

13 Reasons Why I Haven't Blogged In a While

1. I'm a bigger loser than those idiots with the bombs in London. Fucktards.

2. I've been working on this petition to get "According to Jim" labeled with an advisory before the show begins that states: "You WILL Be Dumber When This Show Ends and Those IQ Points Ain't Growing Back in the Couch Cushions." (It's tiresome work, but it's for a good cause.)

3. I was detained by the San Francisco Police for three days while they questioned me over "love letters" I've written over the past 22 years to the most elegant, vivacious, adorable, ravishing actress to ever grace the silver screen...Miss Winona Ryder. (I love you me!)

4. I started smoking. My shoelaces caught on fire. (Thank you, I'll be here all evening. Don't forget to tip your waitress.)

5. I've been slaving away as a vice-presidential candidate for the Common Sense Party. Our slogan: "Sense is not common enough." If we don't make the ballot in '08, hopefully SOME of our ideals, like, you know, common sense, make it into the platform of BOTH the Republicans and the Democrats. (And Demo's, change the icon. No one wants vote for an ass. Or maybe they do. Kinda makes you go hmmm...)

6. I had a long, peaceful and retrospective conversation over pizza and hot wings with Dialysis. The authorities are still trying to find his body...

7. I reached 1,000 rejections in my lifetime from beautiful, neckish women. Spent the next two days testing different thicknesses of rope to see which would best hang a complete loser. (Ordinary American Rope #14 was the winner. Oh wait. It snapped. Damnit.)

8. I went to a competitor's radio station and took all the promotional frisbees with their logo on them. I climbed to the top of our building and began flinging them into traffic. Boy, are they in big trouble.

9. I searched for the remainder of my Soul. It called from Cabo and said the margatrita's were delicious. And that it was dating Christina Ricci. My Soul also said her kisses tasted like newly sprouted roses. I hung up on my Soul and called the Cabo Police to inform them my Soul had kidnapped Christina Ricci. My Soul will never cheat on me again, that's for sure.

10. I tried to become Stacy Without an O. Then I realized it was the women I had been with that hadn't had an O. Then I got really depressed. I called Congress and asked that O be stricken from the English language. I heard a knock at the door and A, E, I, U and sometimes Y beat the hell out of me. O came in smiling and told me never, ever to fuck with a vowel again. I said "YOU" really loud just to show my appreciation for a majority of O's friends. They all smiled, did a very good Ashlee Simpson jig and departed with every piece of furniture that started with a consonant. I guess I should have put my earlier "FUCK" before "YOU."

11. I bought a huge box of Lime Jello at Costco and poured it into my apartment complex pool. On my way to work I spotted a number of clinically obese rednecks gently tossing in 18" wide marshmellows. A couple were purposely placing skinned watermelons. Then they all held hands and sang, "There's always room for Jello." The memory still haunts me to this day. (Who knew Scientologist's loved Jello??)

12. I placed a thousand freshly frozen ice cubes into a thousand different envelopes to be mailed to the poor people in Arizona and Death Valley who are suffering through the heat wave. I got a call the next day from those same poor people telling me, "Thanks for the humidity fucker." Click.

13. I managed to bench press a whopping 20 pounds. I didn't grunt, leave my weights for someone else to remove or leave a sopping wet puddle of sweat on the bench. They promptly asked me to surrender my membership because I "didn't fit in."

As the before list seems to demonstrate, when I don't blog, I do really stupid things.

I promise to blog more in the future.

Thank you for your patronage.