Friday, December 24, 2010

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 2 Issue 43

Dear Santa,

I’ve tried real hard this year to be good and I think I was successful on that (well for the most part but how can you blame me for some of that naughty stuff?). So what I would love for Christmas is something real simple, I don’t want to go manic again. That’s it, and I know you probably really don’t have the pull for something like this but I figured you could at least pass along my request to the big man upstairs. I know it’s your busy time this year and trying to get through to Heaven during JC’s birthday is probably a nightmare but I’d really appreciate it. I mean look at this way, I’m giving you a reason to put down that tiny hammer that looks absolutely ridiculous in your normal human size hand and pick up that tiny phone and have a chat with the Almighty. I mean seriously when is the last time you two caught up? This way you can even wish JC a happy birthday at the same time (I can only imagine how they’re partying up there, I mean God’s sons birthday, has to be off the hook). I’m sure you have a lot on your plate right now so I’ll leave this short and to the point. No more psychotic manic episodes for me please. Thanks.

Merry Christmas!
Derek

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!
(Since it’s my Dad’s birthday month I’ll be rocking Van Halen all December, Happy Birthday Stubby!)



Coming Correct,
d01roK

Friday, December 17, 2010

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 2 Issue 42

After much encouragement from some of my readers (mainly family but I’ll take it) I’ve decided to try and market this blog a little more. During my last session with my counselor I accomplished two milestones, one I gave this link to him (welcome to .e4) and I believe I finally came to terms with how I want this all to go. He asked me when will I think I’ve made it?

“When I’ve helped someone, someone like me.”

Which sounds really good in all but it’s up to me to actually do it of course. I have always complained that in my biggest time of need I could find no information anywhere about this BMD that I could relate to (mood swings my ass, ask my mom if that’s what it’s like as I ball uncontrollably and beg not to hurt anyone) and now I’m doing the same. If I am the gatekeeper, as so is everyone else battling BMD, then what type of person would I be not to share a gift that I may have (it tis the season).

So of course my first act of business to market this craziness was to add my blog address to Bing and Google. As I was completing this task I began realizing that if I am to be successful in this and be true than everything must come out about my past, even the difficult things. I would like to introduce everyone to Tristan…




Tristan is last seen here with his only known accomplice, Boomer (far left). For a crash course on Booms and Trist here’s the story behind the picture. Halloween eve 200? when two young coeds are anxiously awaiting their dates for the movie Saw (perfect way to start the Halloween weekend wouldn’t you say). The doorbell rings and standing outside the door, grabbing their crotches, and mean mugging to all get out is Boomer and Tristan. They fill the night with beer, being bad, and “Fuckin’ Partying!!!”, needless to say I’m protecting the young lady tigers identities.

Tristan is somewhat of an alter-ego I suppose you could say but I haven’t heard of him lately so he was sort of out of sight out of mind (should of learned my lesson about that in North Carolina, I’m technically considered a bootlegger in that state). He use to wreck havoc on my social life in college randomly appearing at nights to totally offend girls and chase away any hopes of mine at being accepted (damn him, damn him).

Like I said I haven’t seen him or Boomer in awhile which is a good thing because like I said I’m trying to build this blog and the last thing I need is those two dicking off. Well of course I spoke too soon because there was a spotting of Boomer over the summer at the funnel slide (they looooove waterparks) in Browntown. I shrugged this off and paid little attention as I was trying to piece my life back together, mistake.

I received an anonymous tip to check out the following link http://thedirty.com/2010/12/tristan-douchebag/ I have no idea what he’s doing in Denver other than pissing off the locals but I’m beginning to get nervous. I mean just when I have built up enough confidence in myself to try and do something good he comes along and starts to ruin it. I’m fairly nervous that if I show my face in Denver ever again it could get ugly. On the brighter side he’s rockin’ a .e4 logo hat so big ups for that one Tristan, I’ll be seeing you soon…

TBC…

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!
(Since it’s my Dad’s birthday month I’ll be rocking Van Halen all December, Happy Birthday Stubby!)



Coming Correct,
d01roK

Friday, December 10, 2010

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 2 Issue 41

I take a bite of the apple and suddenly the taste of bleach and of poison fill my mouth and I take off in a sprint towards my bathroom. The toxic smell of poison fills my nostrils as I kneel over the toilet and profusely dry heave. I haven’t really eaten in days so each acid reflux feels drier and drier until I’m merely spitting out saliva. I have eaten the forbidden fruit and this is my punishment, I am in purgatory.

I grab my wrist and feel around anxiously trying to find a pulse, a beat, a sign of life but nothing. I switch wrist and impatiently fumble around trying desperately to find evidence that I exist. I grab the side of my neck below my jaw line and squeeze slightly, I know I’ll find a beat here. After all those years in track and checking my pulse there is no way I’ll have trouble on my neck, it’s second nature. Nothing, I switch sides of my neck but to no avail. My legs are spread apart as I sit in my room and the realization that all of this is not real starts to creep into me. I frantically search my chest for my heartbeat, each second the paranoia grows and grows as my heartbeat is lost, I am in purgatory.

“The judge won’t be back until Monday, all the courts are closed.”
What judge? I admitted myself this time so there can’t be 72 hour hold on me I came in under my own free will. Wait, was it my own free will? Why do I have to see a judge if I did nothing wrong? Unless this is all real and I did start the apacolypse, is this a test of my faith? I did nothing wrong, I am in purgatory.

“What’s those?”
“Nothing.”
“You shouldn’t do that.”
“Why does it matter?”
“It matters to your family.”
“Yeah I’ve been talking to them more lately.”
“You should, they care.", I am in purgatory.

I was warned today to stop socializing with the others. I seem to be having a negative effect on one of the girls. It befuddles me that by trying to help I can do so much harm. What place am I in when simply talking with someone jeopardizes their well-being. I have only wanted to help others and now it seems I am the cause of so much pain that she stiffens up and freezes whenever I’m around. I don’t understand how she could help me so much yet when I try to return the favor I hurt her even more, I am in purgatory.

“How do you feel?”
“Good, like I’m back.”
“Well you’ll get your release today and you do have someone to pick you up?”
“Yeah, my Dad. The nurses told me this morning what time to have him come by.”
“The hospital will be in touch with you and Dr. Adler as well for the study, good luck.”

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!
(Since it’s my Dad’s birthday month I’ll be rocking Van Halen all December, Happy Birthday Stubby!)



Coming Correct,
d01roK

Friday, December 3, 2010

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 2 Issue 40

My Thanksgiving hunt was about as successful as my golfing skills (thru 12 holes at Pinehurst I had lost 10 balls, hit a barn, sent an old man with a bad hip running, and I mean drilled a house). I mean the hunt was so unsuccessful that I even upset a follower of .e4 (down to 17 from 18). I must really be on my game.

Seeing how my game makes me laugh I’m going to continue to share it with my now 17 followers. As I previously mentioned I’m back in the game and decided to give the online dating scene a try (I figure I buy sneakers online for double the monthly price so this is one hell of a deal), I’m beginning to realize I’m as bad at dating as I am at golf.

Maybe it’s my approach to blame but I find it humorous to reveal my stats. 10 emails sent (0 reply, haha), 0 emails received (1 wink but I think it was accidental), I managed to scare off a girl whose number I received two years ago (no idea how I managed that one considering I asked her out to COSI, yea I know great idea), and even was blown off by a friend of a friend who I merely said hello to and good luck (I’m totally stumped on that one). Of course you can imagine I’m beginning to doubt myself which is highly unusual for me (some say I have an air of confidence about me, other’s simply call me a dick).

Now because of this I decided to really focus when I was going through the picture menu on match.com (eat your heart out Shoney’s). I obviously am looking for a tall blonde (shocker I know sis) who has a sense of humor ranked high (damn it I’m funny). I thought I had found her, tall, blonde, into sports, ranks laughter extremely high and is studying child psychology (perfect because I act like a kid (see profile quote above) from time to time and I’m Bipolar (we’ll have tons to talk about). Once again failure but it was funny (at least to me).

Here’s how it went down:

Email 1
To: (Radio Edit)
Title: Yeah I’m emailing on Thanksgiving…
Body: big whoop, wanna fight about it? I can't imagine how much shit you must catch on here for your screen name so big ups for staying true to that whore of a city up north (haha I kid I kid).
Response: Nothing (she’s a Michigan fan btw, I know I know)

Email 2
To: (Radio Edit)
Title: Stop me if you’ve heard this one before…
Body: We're on our way home from our first date (it went well) when we get into a horrific car accident. My brother (yea in order for the joke to work there needs to be three people, he likes you though) and I are killed and are awaiting our entry into Heaven. At the gate St. Peter gives us the run down of how things operate there in Paradise. He points out the hot spots and warns us to steer clear of the ducks. See those ducks are the big man in charges prized possessions and he would be enraged if anything happened to them. Well I step up and decide that I'm going to just walk real cautiously and slowly paying attention to every step in order to not harm the ducks. Wouldn't you know it after three steps I step right on a duck, killing it and sealing my fate. St. Peter walks up and says you know you're going to have to be punished for this so I get handcuffed to the ugliest girl in heaven for all eternity (tough break). My brother steps up and just takes off in a dead sprint balls to the wall running and tramples a duck killing it. St. Peter comes over and since I already have the ugliest girl in heaven on my arm the second ugliest is handcuffed to him for eternity. A few months pass by and my brother and I (with our hideous cuffmates) are walking around heaven when we catch a glimpse of you across the way. You're handcuffed to the Brad Pitt of angels in heaven so we run over and ask:
"What happened? How in the hell are you handcuffed to that!?"
the Brad Pitt angel replies:
"I don't know, I just stepped on a damn duck."
hahaha anything? anything? That's like from middle school humor you gotta love that...
Response: Nothing

Email 3
To: (Radio Edit)
Title: My last try I promise…
Body: So obviously you're not into tall, dark, handsome, and funny guys so how about the adventurous type? Did I ever tell you the story about when I was rappelling down Mount Vesuvius when suddenly I slip, and I start to fall. Just falling, ahh ahh, I'll never forget the terror. When suddenly I realize "Holy shit, Derek, haven't you been smoking Peyote for six straight days, and couldn't some of this maybe be in your head?"
"And?" you ask.
And it was. I was totally fine. I've never even been to Mount Vesuvius.
I'm Derek and your name is?
Response: Nothing (haha)

Email 4 (Sent right after this post)
To: (Radio Edit)
Title: So I lied…
Body: www.e4-d01rok.blogspot.com
Response: TBC???

Since many of my manic experiences involve music I’ve decided to add random music videos to the blog for my enjoyment and your inconvenience. Enjoy!
(Since it’s my Dad’s birthday month I’ll be rocking Van Halen all December, Happy Birthday Stubby!)



Coming Correct,
d01roK