I Don't Want to Go Alone.

It's Sunday.
Alone sitting in a dark room listening to a Ben Harper song and all I can do is sit and stare.
Disecting scenes to a movie that hasn't been written yet.

The panning.
The pull aways.
The straight shot.

It's there and I'm watching it.

I have no popcorn.
I have no soda.
I have no High Definition television

I just have the screen that's playing in my mind.
The picture backwards so I can process it.
The director's version; uncut and pure.
The way it was meant to be seen.

The way I want you to see it.

If That's The Way It Is, Then That's The Way It Is

There it is. The phone is staring at me telling me to pick it up but I won't. "I will do it later," I think to myself as I look at the clock. It's the same time it was when I looked at ten seconds ago. It feels that time is going backwards because I said I would call at five. Originally it was two and two fifteen and two thrity and now I find myself in a place that if I don't do it now, it will be just another excuse that I've given one too many times. I don't want that anymore. The excuses. The reasons that prevent me from focusing on the now. The right fucking now.

I have six minutes right now to turn back. The path behind me is long...dark...and cold and it's just in front of me. The light.

The phone rings, hoping it is the call that I am so scared to make. I am not so lucky. It is just a friend seeing what I'm doing, not knowing the conflict that I'm in. I still look at the clock and now the time is going faster. I don't get you time. Why are you fucking with me? You are some old retired frat boy playing one last trick on a guy who's already having issues.

It's time. It's time to pull my balls back down. They are hidden. Hiding and I'm tired of hiding. I no longer want to stand in the shadow, being a famliar face with no name. That guy you walk by and think "Do I know that guy?" Anonymity is no longer in my dictionary. So here I come, ready or not.

What Does it Take, To Get a Drink in This Place?

Let Me Get That Door for You

I was working today, doing the fun pre-production work that has taken my social life away, and I was leaving the Archives and Regional History Collections (fancy name for library) when I opened the door for a female. Being a guy, I opened the door and felt that I had to look at her ass. To see if it was worth me staring at it for a second or all the way down the hallway. In this case, it was just a second. I don't know if it's my primal urges to reproduce or that I've been living with Jeff for a month now and that this sausage party is over and need to get some poontang up in this piece.

My point is that I think I'm starting to see where Chilvary came from. I really believe that it was some horny knights way of getting a free look at some maiden's tits.

"Let me pick that up for you," as he picks up her basket of goodies that was dropped on the floor, glancing up her skirt.

Today I'm proclaiming myself as Sir Daniel McCauley. Why? Because I'm just like every other horny knight. I will get a free look. I will feel whenever I can get away with that and I will rape whatever I choose. Well I won't do that...or will I? Only time will tell as I walk down this path of "honor" and "duty" but until that time comes give me Excalibur already, I want some tail.

The Musical

My Life...The End.

Wow...what the fuck do I write about? I have been sitting in front of this screen for a good hour now and nothing. I mean I was gonna write about this Fantasia book "Life is not a Fairy Tale," and how she couldn't read but I find it funny that they give her credit for writing the book. I mean she really just told someone her story so she shouldn't get a credit for writing. She can't even read. FUCKING A.

What else was I gonna write about? Oh yeah...fucking sitcom t.v. shows that had their "serious" episode. "Give Me a Break," when little Joey Lawrence dressed up like Al Jolson and everyone freaked the fuck out. "Blossum" when she was physically abused by her boyfriend and who could forget the "Different Strokes" epsiode when the boys were touched by the bike store owner? Fuck you Schwinn!!!

The last thing I wanted to write about was how dumb people are. It seems that most actors in small towns don't have a clue. They don't know when to stop bugging the producers. They like to blame things because they don't know how to deal.

"Hello,
I would like to apologize for the lack of time that
I had to review the script and perform. I had just
started a new job, resetting the cakes and flour
aisle
at Miejer. I had been informed that it would take
from
800pm until about 1:00am; 4:00 at the latest. At
8:00am I left EARLY to download the script and relax
for a brief time before the reading. Your email had
come after I had left for work.
So please understand that I was not exactly at my
stellar best.
Thanks for the consideration.
Tim"

Get over it, just come to accept that you can't act. Spell Meijer right too while you are at it. You aren't impressing me and man those cakes were stale.

These were a couple of ideas I thought about writing about but decided it should be a buffet rather then a main course.