Wednesday, October 18, 2017

The trick is to keep breathing

I lost a couple of friends on FB this morning.

I want to thank #45 for helping me push away the small minded.

I woke up to waffles because TGB is cooler than you.

Monday was her official five year check-up. Five years is the biggie. The last five years of follow-ups have been, well, the days leading up to are always mentally and emotionally exhausting. One scare and one surgery in those five years will make it so you take nothing for granted.

So when I take a step back and look at the last five years I realize that I was not the only one taking care of TGB. Well, I was (I'm just a little more awesome than you) but, a lot of my friends stepped up and took care of me so that I could do that thing I am supposed to do.

And make no mistake, if you are a caretaker, find yourself support. Don't burden the person you're caring for with cancer and taking care of your whiney ass. That's what friends are for.

Somewhere along the way I managed to surround myself with people who help me keep it together when, internally, I am coming apart.

Thank you for that. Yous know who yous are.

Anyway, we wait for test results but, doc said everything looked great.

So we can bang?

He was not amused.

Well, not this hole at least. 

He gets it.

Titty sprinkles!

Saturday, October 14, 2017

Don't forget to wipe!

Oh my god, Rudy, you cannot expect me to read old dribbles when I take my morning poo! 

That's a message I got yesterday. Or something like that. From a nagging friend.

So I am writing this just for you and your morning poop. I hope you get constipated and have hemorrhoids.

Are you pushing? Are you pushing real good?

Don't forget to wash your hands. And for fuck sake, put the toilet seat down BEFORE you flush.

I kinda hope I post this just after you finish so you can be sad. Just a little sad. Not like real sad.

I am going to Biloxi today.

It'll be interesting to see how much they've recovered since the hurricane. I forget which hurricane hit them, we've had so many.

Remember boys and girls:

You can be a christian who loves Jesus or a christian who loves #45; you cannot be both.

Titty sprinikles!

Sunday, October 8, 2017

The weatherman said

Today there is going to be a football game or two. Some players are going to kneel or, lock arms or, do something the faux patriotic white Drumpf voters insist is disrespectful.

Fucking Moron in Charge will tweet out some invectives about the players, chastise teams for not firing said players for exercising their Constitutionally protected rights.

Rights that protect us from the government, of which, he is the fucking head.

He will likely even tweet about veterans. Fuck me, Republicans love to drag us out whenever they want to pound their chests about patriotism. But, again, fuck me, do they hate giving active duty members a raise and do they fight like hell to take away our benefits.

What Orange Marmalade will not do is make mention of the four dead service members in Niger. I know this because he hasn't mentioned them on his favorite social media platform yet.

I suspect he might mention them when someone whispers in his ear that he should use them as a pawn against NFL players.

And remember: they are NOT protesting the flag, or some song, or veterans. They are protesting to shine a light on SYSTEMIC RACISM in this country. Got it? Good.

Do you still support him if you voted for him?

I mean, have you at least realized that he is a shit hombre? He's not what is best in our country, he is not our brightest, nor our finest.

My friends are losing their rights, protections, access to health care. Fights we thought were already fought and won are going to have to be fought all over again.

And if you voted for him, you did that.


Titty sprinkles!

Friday, October 6, 2017

Not today

Honestly, I'm just tired of my country.

Fuck it, I'm making French Toast.

Titty sprinkles!

Thursday, October 5, 2017

Cheeky title here

The entire show was a blur

I have a rule for myself at shows: one photo as the show begins then, put the fucking phone away.

That's why, when Frank mentioned friends from the stage, and then Samantha and I specifically, I didn't record it.

I listened.

And smiled.

In fact, TGB and I looked at each other with huge this is really is our life grins.

Then Frank tasked me with leading a conga line through the venue, to the bar for shots to be brought to the merch booth and then to the stage to be done together.

I've never made it a secret that I am a horrible fucking alcoholic.

The damage my drinking has done was written across TGB's face as soon as she heard my marching orders.

There are certain looks on a woman's face that stay with a man.

This particular look is not a look any man who loves a woman should ever want to see across her face. It was abject fear, hurt, pleading.

In the midst of the joy of the moment things stopped. The air in my lungs was gone and for a nanosecond I was back in California the day after the last time I drank. The damage I'd done written across her face. She could have left and not one fucking person would have blamed her.

I certainly wouldn't have.

I took her face in my hands and told her, I got this.

I took the conga line and danced my dick off around that venue, to the bar - two shots of Jameson and, after a brief hesitation, a shot of water.

The bartender, god fucking love him, didn't miss a beat and blasted a shot glass full of water for me.

I marched that conga line to merch then to the stage. Somewhere along the way I realized my right hand was shaking violently. It wasn't some drunkards white knuckling or nerves or anything.

It was just that I wanted to get back to her to let her know that it was all okay. That her faith and investment in me was not being wasted.

I honestly didn't hear any music the entire time. I kept thinking about her. About that time on the boat when I said I wanted a drink and she offered to pray with me because she knew that a higher power was a part of the 12 steps. I kept wanting to scream, IT'S JUST WATER, BABE!

I got on stage and did a shot with Frank Turner. I looked for her in the crowd and could see the disconcerted look on her face. IT'S JUST WATER, BABE!

I got off stage and ran over to her. It was just a shot of water, baby. I told you, I got this. 

I'm going to tell you a secret. It is so much cooler to be able to allay those fears on a woman's face than to cause them.

I'm a grown ass man. It's not Frank's or anyone else I spend time with's responibility to accommodate my sobriety. That is all on me. Always.

And nobody got a single fucking picture of me on stage with Frank.

Now you decide to put your phones away, fuckers?

Titty sprinkles!

Wednesday, October 4, 2017

Blink... blink... blink...

Vacation was awesome, thanks for asking.

Getting home to yet another record breaking mass shooting not so much.

I've been watching my cursor blink for ten minutes.

I want to tell you about Mobile and beautiful people we met years ago on a boat who are now more important to us than we would have ever imagined.

I want to tell you about getting on stage with Frank Turner. I want to lament that not a single person got a picture for me. I want to boast about having awesome friends and amazing times. I want to tell you about all the money we won and then lost but, laughed losing every single cent.

I want to tell you about a tatted up man named Putu from Bali working to get back to his kids. I want to tell you about towel animals and annoying kids. I want to tell you ... about a woman named Karen we met the last day of the cruise. How she invited us to her home in Las Vegas to watch football because she has a 150" screen and loves Ohio State.

I forgot on which floor we parked the car at the harbor so I went to fetch it while TGB waited. When I got to her she was hiding tears behind her sunglasses.

She told me about Las Vegas.

I thought, not again. Then, of course again. And again soon. And then again after that...

I hugged her and got back into the car.

She drove so I texted my cousin to make sure everyone was okay. Julia and Rachel were at the concert but, home safely. When I had my idea for a stupid reality competition, Rachel hosted my demo. She was beautiful and brilliant. She brought Julia along because of course she did. At night, Julia picked up my guitar and sang for us. Her voice is one of the sweetest things you'll ever hear.

I was relieved and sad and wanted just to hug them.

Then I looked around the parking deck. I wanted to find Karen. I wanted to see that she was okay.

I don't know what I am going to do next but, I have to do something.

My country needs to do better.

Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Some of you are fucking annoying

I try to cultivate awesome friends. Even on FB I try to keep my friends list to people I either know personally or know of through awesome people.

Even with all that effort I have managed to attract some small minded stupid motherfuckers.

Look white people, athletes aren't refusing to stand because they hate the flag. They are kneeling to shine light on systemic racism. Specifically they kind that gets unarmed black men people harassed and killed by police officers at a higher rate than whites by a fuckinghellofalot.

If you think otherwise, you aren't fucking listening.

If you think it's something that doesn't effect you, maybe you should talk to your friends of color.

Finally, if you're going to make jokes about sports ball, BE FUCKING FUNNY, lame ass.

I think peaceful protests is one of the most American things we the people can do. It's democratic as fuck and I wore a uniform to protect the right to do it.

A very orange man would shit on their right to do so.

Here's a hint: if you find yourself on the same side as that very orange man, you are on the wrong side.

I'm annoyed.

Titty sprinkles!

Monday, September 25, 2017

Smother her with a pillow

I tried reading The Odyssey a few times. Couldn't get through it. Recently I checked it out from the library on audiobook because it is read by Sir Ian McKellen. While I love Mr. McKellen, turns out the book still sucks.

I haven't been writing much because I have been busy writing other things. Also, you would get tired of me explaining why #45 is such a motherfucking dickhead.

Remember boys and girls: the flag guarantees jack shit. Only the Constitution does that. And this particular orange asshat is shitting all over the Constitution while pointing to the black guy kneeling in protest and a lot of dumbasses are falling for it.

*steps down from soap box*

I just googled why it's called a soap box. It really isn't that interesting.

My grandmother is dying again. This time the lord told her it's her time. I wish the lord would get on with it already.

I love my grandmother but, for fuck's sake, she has been dying for forty years. Then Jesus heals her miraculously and she is happy and healthy for a few weeks. Then she stops doing the things that made her feel good and health, ie taking her meds, eating better, etc. and she is back to dying tomorrow.

Finished season one of This Is Us. Most of it was amazing. The dead dad episodes were very Elizabethtown and emotionally draining for me but, so very good. Ending on a half-assed cliff-hanger was weak sauce though. Also, Kevin should have picked AT&T girl and not the AHS hot maid.

At least one of you is going, oh yeah, that's who she is! 

And with that. my work here is done.

Titty sprinkles!

Monday, September 18, 2017

Be a man; fix it.

I just realized I haven't showered since Saturday.

I was binging on This Is Us last night. It hits you in the feels. More than that, it is just great story telling. TGB needs to hurry up and catch up so we can resume watching together.

Or not. I will watch that shit without you, Samantha!

And I am not allowed to watch Outlander without her. I will watch TIU without her, dammit.

Not allowed.

We don't do the not allowed thing in Chez Martinez. We're adults who have been through enough without needing permission. In the past she's been not allowed to go on cruises alone and I've been not allowed to have friends.

Fuck that shit.

Except when it comes to Outlander. Because I want to live.

So, correction, I can watch Outlander without her. I can also stay alive. I cannot do both.

I must shower.

Titty sprinkles!

Thursday, September 14, 2017

You think you get it wrong sometimes, you should come down here and see how the big boys do it.

I was laying in bed watching West Wing last night when something hit me: I am a child all over again.

TGB goes to bed early and I will usually come with which means I will be awake a couple of hours before drifting my drugs kick in. So, I throw on my Kindle Fire and watch some Netflix. Last night I decided to hide it under a cave of covers so it wouldn't be bright while she slept.

When I was a kid and doing things like that it wasn't a tv it was a flashlight and a little turntable. I would put on Diamond Dogs or The Beatles while staring at the back covers. Single earbud in my ear (that hasn't changed) as I was transported to another world via music.

There was something delicious in that feeling that I was doing something wrong in the middle of the night.

Of course, anymore the middle of the night is for the annoyance of waking up to take a leak. I chuckled to myself as I swooned over Claudia Jean.

Let's be clear: my crush is Claudia Jean the character, not Allison Janey the actress. Although, there is evidence to suggest that I might adore Ms. Janey as well.

Then I thought, I could just stay downstairs and watch this on a big tv instead of coming to bed when TGB does. 

No. This stupid little Kindle Fire is a reminder of that time I almost lost everything, including the sweet privilege of nuzzling up next to TGB every night, because of drink.

This Kindle is my second one because my first one ended up in the fireplace. I don't know why except that I was black out drunk. It was a horrible night and I was a fucking horrible man.

Writing that sentence makes me uncomfortable. Mostly because it forces me to remember what a shit I was to the people who were the best to me.

That's about the point of last night's WW episode where I stopped paying attention and remembered yet again that pulling my head out of my own ass was the smartest thing I have ever done.

She made me laugh so hard my face hurt last night. She makes me laugh every night. I smiled and looked over at her. She was asleep.  

If you need help, get help. If you think you can't do it remember: just get through today and we'll deal with tomorrow tomorrow.

Monday, September 11, 2017

How long before we turn this into a Hallmark Holiday?

Had a conversation yesterday about the state of the country and how, in a lot of ways, it is worse now than it was just after 9/11.

Makes sense. 9/11 galvanized us as a country.

Now we're splintered and bitter thanks to the asshole in charge. It is self-inflicted.

I know, I know, if I just fall in line and support #45 it'll all get better.

Horse shit.

The terrorists don't even have to do anything. They can just sit back and watch us tear each other apart and laugh. We're doing a better job than they are. 

I just nodded because I really didn't have a counter argument.

I don't really have much of a point.

Happy 9/11 Day, or whatever.

Titty sprinkles!