Holy Shit, Am I Pissed

First off, my friend sent me the address for the Halloween party tonight and told me to "Mapquest it." Only trouble is, the address doesn't work. I tried mapping it several times and ended up getting directions for a place that's 247 miles away. Shit, I don't want to to go to the party THAT badly. Besides, I haven't really had anything to drink in a few weeks, so chances are I'll end up getting too tanked to drive home anyway. Goddammit, why does everything have to be so fucking difficult???

Then, I happened on an ad for vegetarian dog food--I thought my head was going to explode right off my shoulders. Look, I don't care if people want to eat nothing but veggies. Doesn't bother me in the least, although God DID give you those pointy little teeth for a reason, folks... they're for tearing meat, not for ripping into a fucking soy burger. So why drag your fucking dog into it??? Dogs are carnivores, people. They need meat to be healthy. Don't drag your pet into your twisted political agenda. People that buy this shit should be force fed a bag of it, beaten with lead pipes and fed to a pack of starving dogs. (MMMMMMMMM, juicy!) Then, their dog should be given to an owner who isn't a complete asshole. Eat a bag of sweaty dicks, you fucking hippies.

Oh great... now I have to go into work all pissed off.

Halloween Blues

I used to love this time of the year.

I loved it as the nights grew colder, the trees grew bare, and pumpkins started popping up all over the place. There was a time when the most important worry me and my friends had every October was "What are you going to be for Halloween?" Ahhh, the simple pleasures of childhood. As much as it may surprise some of you, I used to love Christmas, too--before it became such a collosal pain in the ass.
But much like last year, I'm feeling my age again. If it weren't for the leaves changing colors on the trees, I wouldn't even know it was almost Halloween. And I'm sure I'll spend the 31st holed up alone in my room, thinking my dark, enigmatic thoughts--again, just like last year.

A friend of mine is having a party tomorrow night. I was actually thinking about going, but I don't have a date and I DO have to work until 8:30pm. I was going to throw a party earlier this month, but I couldn't do it because I couldn't get off from work. (Stupid damn job.) So my friends might be pissed at me, who knows? Besides, the past few weeks I've gone back into "isolation mode," so I really haven't talked to anybody, including most of my friends and my entire family.

I have been writing, though--the only thing is, it has nothing to do with Dean's Planet or this blog. But it's something that I have to get out of my system, otherwise I'll never get over "what's her name." She didn't really give a shit about me anyway, and on top of that, she used me. I'm such a lovesick asshole, it's pathetic.

I came across a fallen tree
I felt the branches of it looking at me
Is this the place we used to love?
Is this the place that I've been dreaming of?

Oh simple thing, where have you gone
I'm getting old and I need something to rely on
So tell me when you're gonna let me in
I'm getting tired and I need somewhere to begin

And if you have a minute, why don't we go
Talk about it somewhere only we know?
This could be the end of everything
So why don't we go
Somewhere only we know?

Jesus... I wish I could just forget about that chick and get on with my stupid life. And you know, the funny thing is, I'm not totally without prospects. I think my co-workers are trying to set me up with a girl I work with, and she's taken to flirting with me and leaving little notes on the windshield of my "unregistered shitheap" of a car. She even bought me lunch last week. AND... for some odd reason... a select few of my female readers seem to think I'm a misunderstood, lost puppy that needs nurturing. Some of them actually dig my self-effacing ways. Witness this recent e-mail I received;

Jeremy,

My name is Karalee i'm 26,i just want to tell you how fucking refreshing it is to have somebody tell it how it is and not put on a front. i dont know i might be grasping for straws here but everything you had to say put a smile on my face or just made me laugh in sheer happiness of how straight forward you seem to be. well anyway if you want to talk and get to know me my e-mail is xxxxxxxx.com. p.s. i couldnt believe that your favorite movies were mine as well

I get e-mail like this more often than you'd think. I guess it's kind of flattering, but I'm smart enough to know that it means absolutely nothing. Even if she WAS the perfect girl for me (assuming there is such a thing), she probably lives 6000 miles away--so what difference does it make? You'll notice I didn't post her e-mail address... it's because I don't want her friends finding out and ripping on her for writing to "Jeremy the Loner." And yes, I don't put on a front and I freely talk about what a loser I am. Would any woman REALLY want that in a man?

I doubt it.

Bah. I'm blue. Drop me an e-mail, people. Let me know you're out there.

goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com

A Wedding And A Funeral

On the same day that a friend of mine got married, another friend of mine was buried. She was only 31 years old, the same age I am, and her life is already over. This is the same girl that sat behind me in sixth grade. The same girl that always used to invite me to her house to "shoot some pool." (I never went, by the way.) She had terminal cancer and there was nothing that anybody could do. Meanwhile, my other friend was getting married that exact same day, supposedly just starting his life. Ironic, I know, but in another way it almost makes sense--I've always associated marriage with death. As far as I can tell, once you DO get married your life is pretty much over.

I know that must sound glib, but it's not meant to. And in the case of my friend, he had already been with this girl for a number of years and they had two kids together. I guess he figured that since he threw his life away anyway, he might as well make it legal. But God, the thought of it makes me sick to my stomach. I don't care how wonderful a woman is, I can't see liking her that damn much. I know plenty of married people, and none of them seem all that happy to me. After you've been together for a number of years, you're lucky if you and your spouse can even tolerate being in the same room together. Thanks, but I'd just as soon be alone.

At any rate, RIP Shala. It's a shame. As for me, I'm taking the next two days off. I need to do some writing... finally...

The Beautiful Ones

Baby, baby, baby
What's it gonna be?
Baby, baby, baby
Is it him or is it me?
Don't make me waste my time
Don't make me lose my mind, baby

Baby, baby, baby
Can't u stay with me tonight?
Oh baby, baby, baby
Don't my kisses please u right?
U were so hard 2 find
The beautiful ones,
They hurt u every time

Paint a perfect picture
Bring 2 life a vision in one's mind
The beautiful ones
Always smash the picture
Always, every time

If I told u baby
That I was in love with u
Oh baby, baby
If we got married
Would that be cool?

U make me so confused
The beautiful ones
U always seem 2 lose

Hey...
What's it gonna be, baby?

Do u want him?
Or do u want me?
Cause I want u
Said I want u
Tell me, babe
Do u want me?
I gotta know
I gotta know
Do u want me?

Baby, baby, baby
Listen 2 me
I may not know where I'm going, babe
I said I may not know what I need
One thing, one thing's 4 certain baby
I know what I want, yeah
And if it please u baby
Please u, baby
I'm begging down on my knees
I want u
Yeah, I want you
Baby, baby, baby, baby
I want you

Yes I do

Random Thoughts

I have to be at work by 7:00am this morning. So why, oh why, was I drinking cheap vodka on an empty stomach, fucking around on the phone, and prattling around the apartment until past midnight? Because I'm stupid as hell, that's why.

Yet another hurricane? That shit is big news, even up in Michigan where it doesn't matter to us. We don't have to worry about that shit here. See that? That's why I live here. No wait... I live here because my parents fucked here and I'm too lazy to move.

I was with some friends this weekend and I watched "Citizen Kane" in a somewhat "altered" state. And no, I wasn't drinking. Get it? As many times as I've seen that movie, it takes on a whole new feel when your eyes are glazed over and the house is engulfed in smoke. I kept making dumb comments throughout the movie, then I'd get paranoid and ask "Am I being obnoxious?" At one point, my friend Andrea came in the room and remarked that there was something very wrong with watching one of the greatest movies ever and acting like we were on an episode of "Mystery Science Theatre." It was fun, though. "Rosebud" indeed.

I will be back on the site again soon, honest Injun. No, sorry... honest Native American.

Fucking hell, I have to go to work already. I hate my damn job. And life in general.

Still More Reader Mail

I've been working on my new column off and on all morning, and it's not going well. That's what happens when you take a hiatus, you forget how to write. It's just like anything else, I suppose. Even if you're good at something, you have to keep doing it or you lose the ability. Writers have to keep writing. Athletes have to keep playing. Singers have to keep singing...

Well, you get the point. It is a little scary, though, because based on what I just wrote, I've probably forgotten how to have sex. Just as well, I guess. I'm starting to actively dislike most women. Don't as me why, I have my reasons.

So I did what I always do in these situations--I read through some e-mail, looking for inspiration. But the pickin's were pretty slim this week, as they always are after I've gone a while without writing anything. There is one strange thing, however--the past few days, I've started getting e-mail addressed to Melissa Midwest again. It hadn't happened in a while, but it's starting up again. (I guess the interview must have been posted at a new batch of porno sites or something.) It still amazes me that people are dumb enough to read that interview and think my e-mail address is Melissa's. But as I'm starting to learn, people will NEVER stop amazing me with their stupidity. Here's the interview, in case you missed it;

http://www.deansplanet.com/jeremy_the_loner_melissa_midwest.html

And here's a funny e-mail that just came in. I must say, I'm glad I'm not the only horny loser in the world;

From: BlondeBadBoy1@aol.com
Date: Mon, 10 Oct 2005 00:02:57 EDT
Subject: Hey
To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com

Hey Melissa, my name's Bobby and I'm from Philadelphia.

Hey Bobby, I'm Jeremy and I'm an alcoholic.

I've only seen your site once, but I just wanted to say that you're absolutely beautiful. I'm very sorry to hear that you're seeing someone!

Yeah, because if she wasn't, you'd be next in line, right champ?

If you lived anywhere in the Philly vacinity I'd definitely see if I could do whatever I could to take you out! Haa!

Yeah, and if she lived anywhere near YOU, she'd be taking out a restraining order on you, "Mr. Blond Bad Boy." Haa!

I know you said you think good looking guys are stupid, cocky or dumb. But, I promise Im none of those.

Including good-looking, correct? It's okay to admit you're ugly, man. I do it all the time. Besides, if you have to tell people that you're not stupid, cocky or dumb, THAT USUALLY MEANS THAT YOU'RE ALL OF THE ABOVE.

I'm just a 25 year old 4th grade school teacher! Anyway, keep doing what you're doing and I wish you the best in all you do!

Well, I certainly feel better about our public school systems, knowing that guys who teach fourth grade are surfing porn sites and writing love letters to nude models. Gee, and we wonder why the Japanese are kicking our asses academically.
If anyone wants to e-mail this guy and pose as Melissa Midwest, go right ahead. I'm sure that fucking with this dude will provide plenty of free entertainment. If I wasn't so busy these days, I'd do it myself.

From: "Paul Ruiz" pruiz@sdccd.edu
To: "'goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com'"
Subject: oh man
Date: Tue, 11 Oct 2005 11:07:55 -0700

I work in a computer lab as a computer tech at a college in San Diego. I had to hide behind my monitor at my desk reading this shit because I didn't want the students to see me fucking smiling face. Holy shit, I still can't stop laughing and it's been 5 minutes after I read that article. Great work. Laughable man. Have a good one and keep up the amazing work. Paul

Don't get me wrong, this is a nice letter, and I do enjoy getting e-mail like this.
But for all the nice things he said, you'll notice that he left out one small detail... the column he was referring to. Was it something I wrote last month? Two years ago? Does he think I'm Melissa Midwest, too? We may never know.

Thanks for the e-mail just the same, Paul.

Eating Pizza And Typing At The Same Time

I've been really damn busy this past week, which explains my absence from Dean's Planet. Usually I disappear because I went on a bender, but not this time. Although I did wake up on the couch at 2:00am, the apartment dark, with a warm beer in my hand--and I have no idea how that happened. But that was only one night. A good bender can last for a week, maybe more.

So, I'm getting ready to head back out to work in a few minutes. And sometime in the next day or so, I'm actually gonna finish that damn column I've been working on for two weeks.

I'll be back later, with reader mail and shit like that.

I Fucking Hate Mornings

Getting up at 6:30am blows. I don't care what anybody says, when you have to get up earlier than the sun does, something is wrong. That's why I don't understand those misguided souls who call themselves "morning people." How stupid. If you're a morning person, you can go right ahead and blow me. Go on, do it. Maybe it will help me wake up.

I knew it was going to be a bad day when my toothpaste got on my nerves. That's right, I said toothpaste. I was brushing my teeth a little while ago, staring at my sullen, stubbly image in the mirror when I noticed that my tube of Colgate boasted that it was an Exciting Flavor! Ooooh yes, many is the time that my toothpaste has "excited" me. Yessir, that new toothpaste flavor will be the highlight of my day.

Goddammit, where's my fucking Pop Tarts???

Antisocial

Every now and then, I wish I could be more like other people.

The people I work with think I'm strange. For some odd reason, they always go out together on their nights off, even though they have to look at each other all day during the week. I'm not sure I understand that. One of them is having a birthday party this weekend, so they're all giddy about that. Another one has been telling everyone she made Jello shots, so everyone should stop by and have some. Jello shots? Puh-leeze. A real man can swig his liquor directly from the bottle.

They used to invite me along on these things (sometimes), but they stopped doing that some time ago. They'd come up to me and say "Hey, Jeremy, we're going dancing at the club tonight. Do you want to come?" I suppose it was nice of them to offer, but I'd invariably respond by saying something like "Dancing? Are you fucking kidding me? Do I look like a guy who would go out dancing??" I wasn't trying to be a prick, but I can't dance and I'd look ridiculous at some lame ass "club." Those places are pick-up joints, so I wouldn't have a very good time. Shit, I couldn't even pick up a cold at a place like that. When I go out, women pretend like they don't see me.

I used to be somewhat social, but I guess that was before life beat me down into a pulp. These days, the people at work (who obviously don't know me very well) describe me as "quiet" and "shy." I told one guy that I liked to do karaoke and perform on stage and he said he couldn't imagine me getting up in front of people.
And that was kind of weird, because I've been performing on stage since I was 9 years old. Just another one of those contradictions in my life--I hate people, but I love to entertain them. I love women, but I go out of my way not to talk to them. I crave attention, but I also fear it...

Holy shit, am I fucked in the head.

More Reader Mail

I didn't even realize that I'd neglected this dumb blog for almost a week now. But it was a weird week--too many late nights and early mornings. That's not to imply that I've magically aquired a social life (because I haven't), it's just that I stay up until the middle of the night most of the time, even when I have to be at work by 8:00am the next morning. Why? I don't know. I'm fucking stupid, I guess. Let's take a look at some reader mail, as I have nothing better to do at the moment;

To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com
From: "Carl Marcus" carlmarcus@earthlink.net
Date: Thu, 29 Sep 2005 22:52:41 -0400

I liked your column on the power ballads, but you left out Whitesnake. I mean, if you're gonna whine about Def Leppard selling out, what about Coverdale yowling while that girl was writhing on the car?

I didn't forget about Whitesnake, but hell, there were only ten spots on the list. Besides, I liked watching Tawney writhe on that car--it helped make a shitty song much more palatable. It's like when Warrant's "Cherry Pie" video comes on; that song sucks, but I'll bet you leave the video on whenever you come across it. If your song is going to suck anyway, you might as well load the video up with eye candy. You have to give David Coverdale credit for knowing that. And um... you know, Warrant.

To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com
From: "brad" ig_ca@yahoo.com
Subject: for jeremy
Date: Fri, 30 Sep 2005 16:40:29 -0500

I hope this is going to the blogger that wrote so damned much about gweneth paltrow. I was tired and bored down here in bocas del toro, panama (check out bocastown.com) and after researching a perfect pickled egg recipe for my restaurant Boca Bills I typed in damn it all anyway and I got this guy's blog. He writes: AM I THE ONLY PERSON IN AMERICA WHO PLAIN DOESN'T GIVE A FUCK??? about gweneth paltrow. But you seem too give a fuck. why are you even wasting valuable energy thinking about this person. Do you know her? Does she have anything to do with you other than saturating your media sources which you seem to be very much into.Take a vacation.Get out of your element.Check out Bocas del Toro, or San Juan del Sur, or Prague, maybe Riga, Latvia or the Basque country. Get out for a while and then figure out how best to use yourself.

Take care,
Brad Scruggs

Huh???

I've been writing on Dean's Planet for several years now, and I've been writing in this blog since July. In that time, I've mentioned Gwenyth Paltrow ONCE... just once... and even then, I just bitched about how "Apple" is a fucking retarded name for a child. I'm not sure how that translates into me writing about her "so damned much." In fact, this guy just wasted a hell of a lot more "valuable energy" thinking about her than I ever have.

So, now I need to take a vacation? Huh? This whole thing smells like a cheap plug for his website--but that's fine with me. I doubt many people are checking out this blog from Panama. I have some weird readers.

From: Ginalynn72@aol.com
Date: Sun, 2 Oct 2005 02:31:39 EDT
Subject: re: your photo
To: goodnight_tonight@yahoo.com

You look so young for your age..whats your secret?

Ha, that's cute. If I still looked like that REALLY, I'd never be able to buy liquor. But if it makes you feel any better, I haven't matured emotionally one bit since that picture was taken in 1976. Physically, yes. Emotionally, no.

I'll have a new column on the site within a day or so.

No Rain

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain
I like watching the puddles gather rain
And all I can do is just pour some tea for two
And speak my point of view, but it's not sane

It's not sane

I just want someone to say to me
I'll always be there when you wake
You know I'd like to keep my cheeks dry today
So stay with me and I'll have it made

And I don't understand why I sleep all day
And I start to complain that there's no rain
And all I can do is read a book to stay awake
And it rips my life away, but it's a great escape

Escape ...

All I can say is that my life is pretty plain
You don't like my point of view
You think that I'm insane
It's not sane ...

I just want someone to say to me
I'll always be there when you wake
You know I'd like to keep my cheeks dry today
So stay with me and I'll have it made

I'll have it made
You know I'm really gonna, really gonna have it made...