Friday, January 27, 2012

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 3

I smacked the stripper’s ass and looked over to my friend Jamin and asked:

“Is that alright?”

Don’t get it confused now; this wasn’t my first experience with strippers. While I may not be in love with strip clubs (except for The Clermont Lounge in A-Town) I am a guy and staring at naked women is like in my DNA. However on this occasion we weren’t in a strip club, we were in some black guy’s basement. Yep this experience was of getting my cherry busted at basically being at an all black bachelor party.

I should preference this with Jamin knows how intimidated I am by black women and I’m pretty sure he thought this was going to be really funny (he thought right but I got even with the “Jermaine Gresham and I stepped on his boys shoes incident” of last year). Now where this deep intimidation I have comes from is a mystery that Jamin and I have investigated and come the conclusion that I’m just crazy (I kid I kid). While I’m not 100% sure of the motivation behind taking me to this party I will tell you a few things I learned while being the minority.

Number one is that I should have brought my own beer because whatever that pink stuff was coming out of the giant orange cooler was fucking me up! The next one is a little difficult to explain so bare/bear/baer with me. I mentioned I’m not in love with strip clubs and that’s because I just seem to get frustrated by them, like it’s the worst cock tease ever. I get that they are hot and naked but what am I supposed to do now? That being said I somehow fell in love three times that night. The final life lesson was around my ass slapping experience above and that lesson is one that I’ll save to share one day with my son.

At times I forget how much I can learn by throwing myself into a situation that I am completely uncomfortable with. I can recall the first few months of work at AT&Tizzle being pretty awful. I wasn’t familiar with anything around me and I thought I was in over my head. At about this point my boss at the time said something that for some reason resonated with me:

“We’re going to throw you into the deep end and you’re going to sink or learn to swim.”

Luckily I somehow pulled my shit together and figured it out but as chaotic as it may have seemed at times back then I think that’s the best way for me to learn; just throw me in.

I’m not sure what Jamin’s true intentions were on inviting me to that bachelor party. I mean was it for my own good to get over my intimidation of black women, or to open me up to new experiences, or even revenge for all the kids at Southeastern calling him Ricky Williams at my brother’s football game? Whatever it is it felt a lot like how BMD came into my life.

Yep no symptoms before the manic episode, no genetics in the family, then a severely manic psychotic episode to kick it all off, hallucinations, delusions, psych ward admittance; yeah I’d say I got thrown right into it but I think I’m swimming (at least doggie paddling).

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!

Coming Correct,

Friday, January 20, 2012

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 2

In case some of you didn’t catch my Facebook post earlier this week I took a shot at Paula Deen (yes it was uncalled for, yes it was easy, and yes it was pretty damn funny). It seems because of Paula’s obsession of overindulgence in unhealthiness in her cooking finally caught up to her. She was diagnosed with diabetes type 2 even despite the fact she tried to exercise regularly (I can’t support that, she more than likely never even tried) she has an illness/disease now. Well I guess I should share my comment sooner rather than later so put down that stick of butter and get ready to laugh:

Sarcasm Lesson of the Day: I can’t believe Paula Deen has diabetes

Pretty funny right? Not as funny as the fact that Paula is now the spokesperson for a type 2 diabetes medicine company. So wait, wait, wait a minute. You’re telling me she had her own TV show and was paid to promote unhealthy eating (like a hamburger between two donuts) and then when she gets sick from it is now being paid to be a spokesperson for the drugs she’s now on to stay healthy. Damn, and I thought Charles Barkley had all the scams figured out.

I guess when I slow down and think about it I really shouldn’t be all that surprised. I mean I can think of a lot disease and illnesses that are a direct result of cause and effect. You know Paula ate enough fatty unhealthy foods that her body began shutting down because of it and now she’s taking medicine to help that, oh and making money off the whole damn thing too. I should probably take it easy on Paula Deen because she isn't the only one to use their health/weight to profit (see Dan Marino) but unlucky for her she is the most recent. Her disease reminds me of the chain smoker that gets lung cancer, the avid dipper that gets mouth and throat issues or the alcoholic that has liver damage; cause and effect.

Keeping cause and effect in mind and seeing how a lot of people like to look at BMD as a disease or illness, even though I don’t buy it, I’ll still humor them for this post. Now I can go ahead eliminate genetics to the cause of my crazy world because while at times my family has glimpse I don’t believe anyone is completely mad (yet). So if it’s not genetics and it’s not a virus (could you imagine if you got BMD for 3-7 days at a time from airborne viruses; things would get crazy-no really, it would be complete madness) then the only logical explanation would be cause and effect and me enjoying something in abundance that gave me this disease.

Let’s see before the diagnosis and the manic episode I was having a shit ton of fun in my life. I mean I didn’t have very many complaints with the whole social life at the time. I was living in amazing new cities, making a good living, had great friends and good times on the reg (sorry, couldn’t resist), and was even getting laid. Maybe I was having too much fun and that’s why I got the BMD as a disease. But that just doesn’t seem like it would be enough. I mean Paula had to dedicate herself to living a completely unhealthy lifestyle to get diabetes. What am I missing? What am I missing. . .

That’s it, some advice Stubby gave me when I was having some woman problems once:

“Yeah son, but the crazy ones are the fun ones.”

So there you go, when you add in my attraction to the “fun/crazy” ones I think that puts me over the top in terms of abundance of fun in my life that led to my “disease” of craziness (still wouldn’t take it back for anything though).

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!

Coming Correct,

Friday, January 13, 2012

Life full of mania with a dash of humor and a slice of normality (those are the secret ingredients) Vol 4 Issue 1

I contemplated starting this new volume of .e4 off by making fun of the new hipster subculture of our society that I experienced in A-Town recently. I had this clever lead in to these “fixed gear” riding, preppy grunge style, and board game paying fools in bars with a day-walk story (so day-walking is when I just kind of wondering around during the day when everyone else is at work, it’s ok to be jealous). I would have shown all these pics of cool street art (and stray dogs) to you but my New Year’s Resolution was to not make fun of people I don’t really know (that’s like impossible by the way). So Instead here’s a story about high school basketball officiating…

After my sophomore year of really only being the 1 in the box and 1 defense in high school JV basketball I decided to hang up the sneakers (I did throw a behind the back pass that year though in a fast break, I’m still pretty proud of it). I did start working at the mall (outlet that is, us country folk don’t live close to real malls) but I was also a pretty enthusiastic fan for the basketball team. I was even known to verbally spare with the refs about calls, the general officiating of the game, and how the other team is cheating.

After one particularly poor officiated game the next night at the game a girl in my class tapped me on my shoulder (as I stood in the front row under the basket so everyone could see me) so I turned around to a folded up ref’s shirt and the girl (whose dad is also a referee) saying:

“The guys from last night’s game thought you should have this because you talk so much shit during the game.”

I’m not going to lie; it was one of my proudest athletic moments in high school. I wore that ref’s jersey to the rest of the games as my best friend and some bum we found on the street (that’s a lie) also dressed as refs for all the home basketball games and tried to make the calls throughout the whistles (yes we were idiots). We took it probably too far by wearing warm-ups to the JV game and stretching out and warming up only to bust out our officiating gear at the horn. We made ridiculously homered calls on the sidelines and had as much fun as possible (never kicked out, threatened, but never kicked out).

I find myself wondering from time to time what happened to my two officiating buddies. I definitely hear stories about what they’ve been up to; it’s a little hard not to in South Chuck. I also try to take this with a grain of salt (or pills of lithium, I kid I kid) because I can just imagine what they’re hearing about me. I think the last rumor I heard was I was knocked up with NPH’s baby (I don’t even know how that’s possible). I’m sure whatever life has brought my officiating buddies it’s far from the one I have heard about or could imagine; I know my story is.

The time is approaching fast for the release of my book and to say that’s something me, or anyone from South Chuck, would have imagined is more than a stretch. I like that idea, doing something that when I tell past friends about, it makes them look confused (like how could this drunk write a book?). Hell even I still think that from time to time. I guess my real New Year’s resolution (because I’m definitely going to make fun of people) is to try and have fun again; and I think that can be as easy as just being me.

That being said I’ve replaced the music video this week with a poem I wrote. I’m using it on message boards and the like to promote “Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I’ve Lost My Damn Mind: A Manic’s Mood Chart”. Enjoy!

Coming Correct,