Firstly, I will refer to all these entries as having been added to my "B-word", because -that- is one of those words I just hate, irrationally. Like "Bosom". Such an ugly tasting word for such a fantasic thing.
Anyway.
Although I signed up for this account some months ago, I have not since -nor for some months prior- been inclined to write. Anything. No songs, no poems, no journal, no complaints to the management, no letters of harassment to people who complain about me to the management, no letters of praise or gratitude or love or hate.
But tonight I find that I wish to type.
But tonight I have little to type about. Such is life, as they say. So, I suppose there's no way to begin but to pick a spot and dive in.
St. Patrick's Day just passed. I had not one drop of alcohol. I'm not against boozin' it up, I just had better things to do: I bought myself a motorcycle. Now, this is a new thing for me in more than just that one sense.
For starters, it's the first time I've had a recreational vehicle at all. Growing up we had neither the space nor the money for a dirtbike or ATV or anything, and I didn't know anyone who did. Consequently, I haven't had a chance to get more than a passing acquaintance with the workings of one of these machines. Inexperience aside, I couldn't resist taking it around the neighborhood before even getting the simple legalities out of the way.
I gotta tell you, it was one of the funnest things I've ever done. Part of my decision of bikes was based on the thought that I didn't want to invest too much into something I might not really like that much. Turns out that's probably not a valid concern.
But life -in the manner mentioned before- put a fun little stumbling-block out there in the form of an ellusive electrical problem. Now the fucking thing won't start. Oh, I can push start it, but it's really frustrating when you buy a shiney new machine and simultaniously have the giddy-child-on-Christmas urge to get on and go, and the need for care, training, and practice.
Whateverman.
*tap, tap, tap* What else...
I had a date last night. It went fine, but the girl isn't really Who I'm Looking For. Now, I don't have much of a clue who That is, but it seems that it's one of those situations where even if I don't know what I want, I DO know what I don't want. And, dude, I like to consider myself reasonably open-minded, but I can not get into a date with a chubby chick.
Nope.
...
The urge to do this came suddenly, and just left in the same manner. So, off I go to my bed and my book.
Later, You.
Anyway.
Although I signed up for this account some months ago, I have not since -nor for some months prior- been inclined to write. Anything. No songs, no poems, no journal, no complaints to the management, no letters of harassment to people who complain about me to the management, no letters of praise or gratitude or love or hate.
But tonight I find that I wish to type.
But tonight I have little to type about. Such is life, as they say. So, I suppose there's no way to begin but to pick a spot and dive in.
St. Patrick's Day just passed. I had not one drop of alcohol. I'm not against boozin' it up, I just had better things to do: I bought myself a motorcycle. Now, this is a new thing for me in more than just that one sense.
For starters, it's the first time I've had a recreational vehicle at all. Growing up we had neither the space nor the money for a dirtbike or ATV or anything, and I didn't know anyone who did. Consequently, I haven't had a chance to get more than a passing acquaintance with the workings of one of these machines. Inexperience aside, I couldn't resist taking it around the neighborhood before even getting the simple legalities out of the way.
I gotta tell you, it was one of the funnest things I've ever done. Part of my decision of bikes was based on the thought that I didn't want to invest too much into something I might not really like that much. Turns out that's probably not a valid concern.
But life -in the manner mentioned before- put a fun little stumbling-block out there in the form of an ellusive electrical problem. Now the fucking thing won't start. Oh, I can push start it, but it's really frustrating when you buy a shiney new machine and simultaniously have the giddy-child-on-Christmas urge to get on and go, and the need for care, training, and practice.
Whateverman.
*tap, tap, tap* What else...
I had a date last night. It went fine, but the girl isn't really Who I'm Looking For. Now, I don't have much of a clue who That is, but it seems that it's one of those situations where even if I don't know what I want, I DO know what I don't want. And, dude, I like to consider myself reasonably open-minded, but I can not get into a date with a chubby chick.
Nope.
...
The urge to do this came suddenly, and just left in the same manner. So, off I go to my bed and my book.
Later, You.