So I've been opting not to write about this girl I know since I have started blogging. There are several reasons that I haven't, but the biggest one is because I am afraid I will scare her away. I know that occasionally she drops on by to read what I've written, and so I've been weary of mentioning her. I'm scared to give her a name, I'm scared to talk about how I feel for her, I'm scared to talk to the freakin' girl.

But hey, I got over being afraid to talk to her, and that worked out well... So why not blog about her as well? I mean, what can it hurt? Besides, originally this blog was designed for me to express what is on my mind anyway, not for lameass stories that have nothing to do with anything.

So, I start here. There's this girl. I'm scared to death of her. Why? Because she's awesome. She's got a beautiful mind, a sparkling personality, and I love every second of every conversation with her. She's absolutely beautiful in every way. The most gorgeous girl I know, both inside and out. She can make me laugh, and no matter how bad of a mood I am in I always cheer up when she talks to me.

Why would I be afraid of this girl then? She's wonderful. Crazy, I know. Why be afraid of a wonderful person?? Because I am scared that she might be like "Oh wow, didn't realize he was completely head over heels for me," and take off running the other way.

And what kills me is that she doesn't even realize. She thinks I kinda have this thing for her a little, but it's not just that. I am nuts for her. She doesn't realize how much the idea of just being around her for an hour makes me feel so happy. I die everytime that she talks about another guy. Or that she complains about her love-life. Or that she thinks she is anything less than fantastic.

So what do I do? I want her to be the happiest girl in the world, but I don't know how to give that to her. I don't know how to talk to her. I don't know how to act around her.

::sigh:: I feel like I'm writing to a Dear Abby columnist or something with this one, but a little help please?? I'll sleep on it a little more, and see what your comments have to say about this one. Thanks for your help.

In other news... my puppy is driving me IN-SANE.

So, like any other summer evening, the night began rather slowly, with no plans. Of course, I had Cake Shake by my side, just like all my summer nights worth remembering (and some that aren't). We had decided to go out to Applebee's because, hey, we were hungry and we wanted to eat good in the neighborhood dammit. Immediately upon finishing, we ventured over to Barnes & Noble.

I knew this night would suck, because it was only 8:40 and we were already headed for the book store. But what can you do, right? It's summer, and all our other friends were busy. So The Dude (whom had joined us mid-dinner) and Cake Shake and I headed off to the big bookstore in the sky mall. Whilst there, I ran into a fantastic CD. A group who parades around under the name of Madeski Martin and Wood. I was like "Hey... Johnny T told me about these guys..." Alright. I had made a decision to educate myself in the ways of MMW... and it was fantabulous. They really have a good groove going on, so I purchased the-best-of cd, and called it a night at the bookstore.

Bored with the 93 degree evening, we opted to head towards our local Ice Cream Royalty shop, where we hung out for a bit. We ran into a few teens who were playing kissy face in the parking lot. The girl left her truck, and got into the guys truck and they left. Apparently, Cake Shake really disliked the girl, so she convinced me (I resisted as long as I could) to urinate on her door handle. But, I let my better judgement take ahold of me, and said "No. I will not pee on her vehicle. It's against everything I stand for."

I think that it was more that I didn't want to pee on the truck while those other people were standing there talking. They might have been a little weirded out.

Anyway, The Dude headed home, but Cake Shake and I had other plans wanted to stay out, despite our lack of plans because we're THAT cool. It was then that we called up The Hoff-Man.

Unfortunately, The Hoff-Man isn't a loser like us and had gone out for the night. And so began the adventure...

The Adventure

We dropped by The Hoff's house, but his car wasn't there. Naturally, we decided to stalk him, like any sane friend would do. We compiled a list of places that he might be. First, we ventured to Jack in the Box. Unsuccessfull in our attempts to find our lanky friend, we quested further. Our second search point was a success. (Now, I should note that we wanted to go to Cubby's house, but we didn't know where he lived. So we drove around his neighborhood, and eventually ran into The Hoff's car.) However, Cubby and The Hoff were not at this place of residence.

And thus, we journeyed on. "We shan't be stopped by such obstacles!!" I proclaimed, index finger proudly displayed above my head. We hopped in the Llamamobile and sped to The Don's house. Nobody home. "Screw it," I grunted at Cake Shake, who seemed a little let down by our defeat. But nay. I would not let our victory go unobtained. (By this, I mean we happened to be driving by the community pool and look in the gates as we passed.)_ It was then that I spotted a lanky man with hair to spare. It was he. The Hoff was there, glistening in the pool lights, shaking his wild mane and straching his rear.

It was quite a treat to see him in the wild like this.

Yes, after only forty five minutes, the smell of victory was... similar to an engine that badly needed an oil change. That can't be good. Note to self: Change oil. And so, we made plans to accompany this group of friends to a home where we would party like kings would. The whole gang was there. Cubby, The Don, The Hoff, Flash, and two people I had never met before, but knew all about me. That was kinda weird.

So we began our new venture into the desert... But this one would be no easy task, no. Cubby in his speedy european car was leading the pack. Yes, we were in for a ride, we knew. But no 2 minutes into our drive, a fourth party was added to our caravan. Ah yes... The fuzz. The po-po. The bacon. The Five-O. Suddenly, the trek was much more intense, as our new friend was tailing us quite closely. He let off my tail and passed me... and began tailgating The Hoff. We knew what was coming... and all we could do was count down.

The red and blue lights started spinning, sending a beacon of disapointment to all parties involved.

Cubby and I continued on, only to pull over a half mile up. We pulled over down a small road behind some trees to discuss the plan. When a new cop showed up. After we explained that we were just getting directions to someone's house, he left, and we started a patrol of our own. We passed The Hoff a few times, to let him know we were waiting. Eventually, he was let go, and we drove towards the house.
* * * * *
The Hoff received a ticket for speeding, not turning into the right-most lane during a right turn, and for pulling over to the left on the frontage road. What a jerk this guy was. So, a few hundred dollars in fines later, The Hoff was with us at the party. When we arrived at the house, all the others were waiting, since Cubby had the key to the homestead. Once inside, nothing really happened. A few cigars were smoked, some jokes were made, and stories told. A girl flashed me, and that was cool. But then again, she only flashed me because she owed me. (But that's another story.) We baked cakes, listened to music, and played pool. We reminised reminisced remembered and talked about fun times we had had.

Then, like all fun times, Cake Shake and I had to go. We started leaving at 1 am. We left at 1:40.

I guess my point is, I really like my puppy.

So I said to my momma, "Oooooh!! Here's 100 bucks, go get me one!"

This is, of course, while she was showing me the puppy they got. So, naturally, I had to get the sister. Now they can share their sisterly love whilst I do laundry. I love puppies. They're the coolest. Hey, if you don't think so, get your puppy-hatin-ass outta here.

Hippy.

Anywhat, I have taken the liberty of posting some pictures of tha dawgs on my blizzog. Chickity check it out. Yeeeah.

(Mine is the one with the purple collar. [The one with in the first picture.])





Ain't them adorable? I just want to hug them, hold them, and call them George.

HEY. Be forewarned that this post contains some words that your mother might not like you to read. If bad words are not your thing, then skip this post. Deal? Cool.

I am getting so sick of labels. Everyone has to have some generic label. Why is THAT? It pisses me off to no extent to know that no matter what action I take, I am going to have someone look at it and find some way to generalize me. Why do people do this? Because they feel more secure about themselves because they believe that they have no labels on themselves?? People just really aggravate me. I don't want to wear name brand clothes because it's cool. I wear whatever shirt I like, whether you've heard of that name or not. I listen to whatever the fuck kind of music I feel like listening to. Not because you like it. Not because you don't. I'll act however I want to act. If I'm an asshole, too bad, you suck, I am going to kill your dog. If I'm a nice guy, it's not because I felt bad about being an asshole, it's because I am done with it.

Trendy is such an annoying word. Fuck trendy. It gets used so incorrectly. Someone isn't trendy BECAUSE they do something that is in fashion or everyone else does it. It has nothing to DO with that. It's not the what, it's the motherfucking WHY. If I choose to cruise down the street in my Accord with my Quiksilver shirt, Oakley glasses, Anchor Blue jean shorts and Vans, it's sure as fuck NOT because you did it first. It's because I wanted to wear that. If I show up in no name, torn, faded ass clothes that I got from Goodwill, it isn't me trying to be non-conformist. I'm not anti-social, but I am not doing it for you.

Do people realize that there are various shades of gray??? So many people are breaking away from life being black and white, and they accept that there is a gray area, but these poor hapless jack-offs don't get the big picture. It's not about three shades now, it's about a spectrum. It's not black, white, and gray. It's a vast aray of shades. Christ almighty kids, think for your selves before you open your mouth and start speaking the mind of everyone else.

Of course, I am not saying there aren't people that are trendy. I am not saying that there aren't people who will turn away from ANYTHING that is remotely popular in some distant country in Africa. I'm saying that there are also other people who are doing whatever they feel like because they act according to their own mood.

I'm also saying that I hate coming to my parents house because everytime I have a constructed thought that I want to put down in words they have to talk talk talk and never let me be on my own. So if it's rambling up there, my bad.

But I'll tell you this much, I didn't get my point across nearly as much as I wanted.

And I can't stand my family today. I have GOT to go home.

Discuss.