"You Have A Way With Words, I'll Give You That"

Preface: Now granted, I'm not the best blogger. And sometimes...I just might not state public opinion. But this is where I go to get out my dreams. My thoughts. I haven't done so consistently because in a nutshell..people watch. We call them people watchers. But honestly, I could care less anymore. I'm sure an ex or two, be it they remember the link, will come here from time to time and actually read the blog. So...I'm going to say what I want to say. In this post.

My past is just that. I've slept with a lot of women I don't speak to anymore. Used to put my pride in front of me and think "maybe they found better dick". I'm sure they did. I'm happy for them. I've had better bed partners myself. I wont down talk them, I'm no God to anyone. I have friends with some, associate with others. Not on the type of "Oh I'm still cool with them because they just might put my shit out there". I'm sure someone has talked about me in some bad way, that told a friend that told a friend. I can live with that. Cause honestly..I never cared. In the words of Michelangelo (lies) "I fucked though". A lot of things have racked my brain currently. Can you JUST be friends with someone you used to sleep with? What's really the job title of a friendship? Are your friends who they are for a reason? I say this because I've never put a woman before my friends. Then again I don't have many of those, and the ones I do know me better than I know myself. So if I dropped off the face of planet Earth today, at least at my funeral they could say "you know...Greg ain't never NOT been there for me." Granted..I'm a selfish individual. I like to get my way, and usually will duel to the death to make it that way. Its pretty much a curse because I'm usually put in the position to argue with the person on the opposite side of me. We know I hate arguments. I throw temper tantrums..Silently. I had to add that because I don't storm out of rooms and shit. I simply keep to myself. My Verizon bill should be changed the way I ignore phone calls thanks to me turning off the mobile. Shit..as we speak, I have everything off. Twitter, Face book, cell phone, text, everything. I'm trying to get a lot of things in perspective. Why you ask? [And this is where the blog really starts]

As of Thursday, there will only be 100 days left in the year. Let's make the most of it Greg.

Shit, you're telling me. What was my New Years resolution? Get over that "commitment-phobia" that Netta speaks of semi-annually. I've fucked up a lot in the past...10, 11 months. In December, would make one year since I fucked up with probably the coolest woman I've ever met. And she was great. I'm talking about everywhere, across all the boards. And I can honestly say...I fucked that up. She probably doesn't forgive me til' this day, I hope she does if she reads this, I'm sorry. Before I get off track..What were my resolutions, really.

• To be a better man: Sounds easy right? I promise you that shit is hard.
  
• To save money: Well...see what happened was..
• To write a blog daily: Trying, but my life at 23 don't have that many stories. If I were Tucker Max, 30 and writing about all the things of my past..it'd be different. I'm thinking about trying that out, by the way. That's why you really haven't heard much...

Now: My plan for 2011 is and was to quit drinking. But its necessary. I'm grown. I don't smoke, do coke, or pay for sex. I think I win at life, and should be granted a pass to try anything less than 100 proof. Even though on occasion it's okay to indulge in Rumple Minze. The last time I was "Q" drunk...Wait...let me backspace some so you know. "Q Drunk" is a different type of drunk. I'm speaking on being so drunk that you are driving on the side of the road with oncoming traffic drunk. Drunk that you try to talk down a price for a lap dance from a stripper. Drunk to the point you steal a street sign just to hang over your bed as a trophy. As to HOW that was done..is beyond me, but it's happened, twice. There's nothing like it. Thus me saying..the last time that happened...

Was last week. We went to the Caucus and didn't like it. Apparently I was thinking so much about "her" [yes, a woman, evidently], and her reluctance to actually entertain me as much as I entertain her [which has started to bore me. Not enough to explore my options, yet enough to keep my phone silent. I'm done with my old ways] that I started to drink. Heavily. It all started with a shot. Then a battle of shots. Then beers. Then a shot that tasted like coffee. Now when we drink we [my entourage] have a saying that goes: "if it taste like it has sugar in it, it's not a shot" and we're true to these words. Lemondrops aren't shit. We give those to women so they will in turn find a reason to smile at us as we drink the big boy shots. Back to the topic:

Apparently three beers and three shots in: We're pretty fucked up. Q is looking at his phone, manic-depressive like, talking to his lady. I looked at my phone long enough to notice I had 1200 Emails, a google talk message from a girl that I don't want to hear from, and no texts from her. So..I order another round. Pissed. "I'll be back, I'm going to the bathroom". Xavier, the "good shoulder" was talking to the bartender about what else...road trips and fornicating. Oh joy. As I go to the bathroom, I get a call. It's from one of my other boys: "Greg, we're you at, we're trying to buy drinks".

This usually sounds good...But typically when I get those texts...There's usually a CHANCE a bill is split SOMEWHERE...and there's a person who doesn't have cash [sometimes it's Q, but that's my boy, I can't fault him, I've been broke plenty of times]. So I told him I was already drunk and about to leave. I didn't lie..I was reaching drunk. That happy medium when you start walking around paying attention to everything. Have you ever been drunk to the point you look down at a woman's toes and realize they are chipped..Yeah, that type of drunk. Moving forward. We go to another bar: And drink. Now I walk out of this bar because it smelled like wet dog, and the bathroom had a condom machine that said "Look Ma, No Hands". I laughed for a second, until I dropped my drink in the urinal. Not cool. I got another.

[Who CLEANS urinals? Piss is gross. And Urinals are just as bad. Let me explain how a urinal works. You piss in them. And it splashes. Imagine some guy just pissing, and you're next in line. Nine times out of ten he didn't flush it...and even if there is a "splash pad", it will splash on YOU when you piss. The co-mingling of piss is never a good deal. Ever. ugh.]

So...We go outside. Q says "Greg, lets hit a black". Now...only time I've smoked is around her. But she's pissed me off, so I said fuck it, and com mist to light one. But I did take her words and think about them. "Baby, Blacks only RAISE your drunkenness.". And that it did. I felt like Lafayette on True Blood seeing witchcraft after getting midway through it. I had consumed about 9 shots, 4 beers, and a long island. And it was only 12:10. I didn't come straight from work to stop now. Needless to say I drunk more. At the hookah spot. Clouds of smoke, alcohol, water bottles, and a fully charged cell phone. What's a man to do..? Enjoy. So I did. Lets just say I woke up Saturday morning feeling like I had been stomped out by Little League kids with all their gear on. Shits not a good feeling. Like that night I drunk wine, smoked blacks, and drunk Four Lokos with her. That night ended funny. Well no it didn't but still.

I have 100 days to try to make 2010 better than the other 260 that were iffy. How? By reflecting. I already know people aren't wearing white again until next May, so I don't have to worry about that being any one's true colors. But at least their hues better glow. I'm sick and tired of the bullshit. I want consistency. The last time I had that was shit...when was that? What better time to start than now. Lets go. 2011, you're in my vision. I'm going to make you better.

Until.

Greg