zenexistence

Onward, to a slight list of my 'Loves and Hates', fueled by my early-morning beer drinkin' and a tad nostalgic reminiscing on this fine day. Some are light-hearted, some are quite serious. Basically, it'll give you a feel for who I am at this curent moment ... buckle up.


I love my family more than life. We may have had issues in my youth (and who didn't?), but as I grow older, I appreciate them more and more.

I hate mediocrity; it bores me to tears.

I love my cat; Munkee. He's punk rawk. He'll kick your lame ass.

I hate fast food -- well, except for Chick-fil-a. Gimme 'da extra pickles, buddy.

I love individuality (see: Mediocrity, above)

I hate bass music, lowered cars, smoking 'blunts, dawg' and the fact that it has become inherently cool to be "ghetto-trash".

I love honest smiles and laughs. If you feel the need to fake either of these then you might want to rent or buy a spine, jellyfish.

I hate Korn, Limp Bis-quick, Disturbed and all this 'nu-metal' trash.

I love open-minds. Close-mindedness (I just made a new word!) ought to be taken out to the shed and put down just like Old Yeller.

I hate authority-figures that have no earthly clue how to conduct themselves. ("Hello, officer! Thanks for that $120 ticket, asshole!)

I love persons that are strong enough to be fair, regardless of the consequences.

I hate everything having a corporately-sponsered name, like during a football game it's the "Dorito's Half-time Report". Cripes, give me a break.

I love brutal frankness. NOT brutal guys NAMED Frank, ass.

I hate ignorance and those willing to exist in such a state with no attempt at bettering themselves. Idiots, all.

I love Angelina Jolie. Simple but true. How can you not?

I hate liars. They're as low on the social rungs as cowards -- and I fucking HATE cowards.

I love girls with bangs and/or glasses. Retro looks. Emo looks. Goth looks. Oh my.

I hate 7th Avenue in Ybor City having become the Mecca of Central Florida. Florida is simply three varying degrees of scum, I swear.

I love watching goth or rockabilly chicks dance. Good God, I do.

I hate Tom Green and the Osbournes with a passion that borders on fanatical devotion.

I love Jackass. Anyone who can pierce their butt cheeks together gets my nod of immature approval.

I hate getting labeled 'trouble' because of my scene and the friends I associate with. Contrary to popular belief, "Rockabilly guys aren't ALWAYS trouble", we just drink a little more, brawl a little more and raise a little more hell then the average indevegetable.

I love my brass knuckles; they're named Mary.
So when I preface a journal entry with, 'So, Mary and I went out last night', be prepared for an interesting story ...

I hate that if I listen to country music I'm labeled a 'hick' by those that don't listen to it.
Close-minded turds.

I love barbeques with PBR, good friends and outrageous antics -- and if this makes me 'white-trash', then so be it. I'll take my tattooed, Hank III listenin', PBR-drinkin', wife-beater-wearin', pompadored-self and my odd friends over your conformist, boring, normal, vanilla selves any day.
Plus, I'll kick your ass.

And last, but not least, for now:
I hate hating, although, it plagues me just the same.

And that was a little peek into my sordid noggin', enjoy.

Rock out,
Scotty