Flowers for myself

These are the flowers I bought, and put in a vase in my apartment.

I live alone, am heterosexual and had an urge to have some flowers in my apartment, so I bought some flowers from a street vendor lady. When I bought them from the lady, I was giving vibes off that I was buying them for a woman. So in the real world I had an EENY TEENY bit of shame about what I was doing, enough, that I was pretending I was going to give them to a woman. In the Blog World, I am coming clean on it. Millions and Millions of people read this blog and will now know this about me. Ok maybe not Millions and Millions. In fact I dont know how many people read my blog because my software will not give up the analytics. My software is such a prude. I mean come on we have been together since January 3rd, give up the software already.

Homelessness

Lately, I have been thinking about homelessness. Not me being homeless. It hasn't come to that yet, but about all the homeless people in Downtown Miami. Its way more then I am used to seeing in Gainesville. About half the time when they hit me up for money I give, and the other half, I don't. Its Arbitrary, and it usually depends on a few factors. If they sneak up on me I generally don't reward that with a greenback. Anyways, at this point, my giving to the homeless is basically pretty random, like I say, half the time I do, half the time I don't. I have been thinking about being more systematic though.

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One thing I was thinking about, was kind of adopting a homeless person. Picking out a homeless guy and kind of making him mine. I wouldn't invite him over or anything, just give him a few bucks every time I see him. I would start off the relationship big, Giving him a 20 spot or something, and then when other homeless people hit me up I could carry around a card telling the story of how I have a designated homeless person that I give money to, No offense and sorry its not you, but that's how I am handling all you homeless beggers. Consider it the old, I gave at the office routine, only for homeless people. Instead of a designated driver, I would have a designated homeless person. Kind of like Gloria Steinam and those kids you can feed for 34cents a day. In my mind he wouldn't necessarily give me a postcard updating his life but instead, if he didn't smell to awful, I would talk with him and find out how he got where he is.

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I don't know if I need to get that involved though, Its a thought and a way to be more systematic with the thing.

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A blogger I used to read before he retired, named White Dade had his own homeless person policy. If a bum hit him up he would ask the bum for something in exchange. Kind of a way to teach them about capitalism I guess. He would give them a five spot if they gave him a shirt or something like that. I tried this the other night myself. I was at a bar on Lincoln road and a homeless lady hit me up for some jack. I felt like it was an opportunity to try out the White Dade approach, and I gave her a five spot if she agreed to take a photograph with me.

Anyways, I told her I was going to blog about it, and put her photo on the World Wide Web, Also that I invented the Internet. I think she liked that, and we talked for a little while. Bust on me for being callous, but in the end, homeless people are people also. They have failed lives, but they also long for human interaction and connection as well. People usually brush them off and treat them like shit though. Me, I took a photograph with one and She seemed generally happy about it all. At least She was pleased with the five spot.

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Rick, thanks for the link love www.southfloridadailyblog.blogspot.com

Who really invented the Internet?

The blogger software that I use to write "Stuff You Think You Need" is perplexed.
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We are having some issues together, the two of us, Blogger software and I are bickering. It's a mutual thing, just like in any relationship. I don't understand women very well, and I am weak in terms of knowing technical stuff about computer software. Blogger isn't worried about my feelings and just does whatever the hell it wants, even if it hurts me. Blogger is like; to hell with you.

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As far as our relationship goes, I think of it like this: I am like a small child, playing with Guns. Except, I am like a gun playing savant. I am shooting quarters off the top of coffee cans from 100 yards with my back turned to the target using only a mirror to see the object I am gunning for. Blogger doesn't see me that way though, blogger only sees the part where I just admitted I am a small child. They don't want me playing with guns I guess, because really? Who lets a small child shoot a gun over his shoulder while using a mirror to eye the target? Plus I am not really a kid, and I may be drinking also.

So blogger probably just sees me as a drunk child, shooting targets over his shoulder. Plus you know what else? I am stressed out about lots of things in my life. I have failed in so many aspects of my life that I never wanted to fail at. I am Faily Mcfailster. I never wanted to grow up without my children in my life. And that is not a typo. I also wanted to watch the movie of them becoming grownups themselves, but instead of the flick, I get three week interval snapshots. This particular weekend is mine and I will also have to miss a wedding that I would have really liked to have gone to. So to Blogger, I am a stressed out, drunk child, doing trick shooting with mirrors and stuff, plus I am a father. and really, I don't know that I would be generous with my analytics if I knew the blogger to be some kind of a drunk, stressed out, child father, who is a gun shooting savant. So Blogger just messes with me when I try to tell it my needs regarding the analytics portion of the software.

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I was so proud of myself at first. I mean I didn't think I was going all deep logic, I knew I wasn't going inside and changing some of the zero's to ones and some of the ones to zeros, I wasn't like Al Gore, thinking I invented the Internet. But I did figure out the HTML code that I needed to cut, and then I figured out where I needed to paste it. Blogger was all like: "dude? are you proud that you were able to cut and paste something?" I was like: "Yes, Yes I am."

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Blogger gave me some feedback then in the analytics portion of the software and told me the following: "Analytics successfully installed, waiting for data." I was fired up! I slugged down a beer, shot a dime with my gun, using my left hand, over my shoulder, blindfolded at 90 yards and used my right hand to pat myself on the back. It was a good day.

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But it turns out blogger is like so many women in my life. She lied. If you go to the analytics page on my blog, it does indeed say analytics successfully installed, waiting for data. there is a clicky thing to click on from there, and it goes to another page that tells you that it can take 24 hours to upload data before you get your reports and stuff. Excellent, this was on Wednesday and I had a party to go to that night anyways.

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Funny thing, about this party and it ends up tying itself all back in, so just bare with me on this. I met some people at this party that Wednesday, three of them stand out, and all three of them stand out for different reasons.

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The first fellow I met was a black man who was wearing Liederhosen. This was a pretty yuppie type party with most people dressing pretty well, so it wasn't a bunch of drunk college kids with rock and roll t-shirts on or anything like that. A black man wearing liederhosen sticks out in this environment. Being worried that he might be more interesting then I am, I started talking with him. In addition to being a black man wearing liederhosen, He is a performance artist that believes in witchcraft, plus I think he may be a polygamist. I am not kidding. He told me he had four wives. I met two of them. I saw his witchcraft jewelry stuff and honestly he wasn't a Gator fan, so turns out by default he is not as interesting as me after all, But damn that was close. I don't think I have to tell you why this guy stands out.

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I did not make any of that stuff up about the guy, and the part where I was telling you he is a performing artist? that ties into the next person we met. As Liederhosen dude and I were talking, a beautiful polish woman walked up to us. I would like to think she was coming up to talk with me because of my dashing good looks, but in reality she had been to a show that liederhosen guy did. (he performs, and he does it naked and it gets weird I presume from how he had described it). She had seen his show, and to her, he was like a little mini celebrity.

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She was beautiful and kind of seductive and as quickly as possible, I punched in my timecard and went to work. I got vibes that I was doing ok. Women will send you signals and I think sometimes I am to busy looking for the; "buzz off creep" signals rather then the "I like you signals" but this time I was getting the good ones. mostly. I thought. but women will lie and thats another post. one I probably wont ever write about but its in my head. It would be a funny one.

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She would mix in a "buzz off" every once in awhile though. It was about four parts "I like you Bill signals" to 1 part "buzz off" At some point, during the few hours that we talked, I told her about my success with blogger analytics, only I did it in a way where I wasn't just telling her how I cut something and then, wait for it..., pasted it somewhere else. I told her about it in a way that she might now mistakenly believe that it was actually me that invented the Internet.

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Which leads us to the third person. The German. She had come to the party with a man. Neither she , nor he described himself as the boyfriend, but rather as just a friend. Later on I was able to figure out what was going on. It was true He was not her boyfriend, but only because SHE didn't want him to be. He never told me that, I just figured it out. He is also self employed as a computer consultant. His business card has his name, the name of his company and they are the same. It turns out this guy really DID invent the Internet. He knows this stuff and I am thinking about calling him to help me. Only he will not just help me figure out whatever it is that blogger is lying to me about, he could set up a whole new portal, and it would only cost a little bit of money. Its not what I want to do though I just want Blogger to work.

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For now, I am hesitant. I would love a cool ass site that doesn't lie to me about stuff. but on the other hand Blogger was my first and I do feel like if she really was faithful to me about the analytics I would be fine with that. the trouble is I need Blogger to understand that about herself and want to change her ways because at some point I am going to have analytics. That's a fact, and if I cant have analytics with blogger, then I will have it with some other software, Blogger thinks its all my problem and I just don't agree. I certainly wish I was better at understanding that stuff, but I am not.

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Anyways thats my story, and Blogger was like, "are you kidding me? are you going to write a post showing how stupid you are?" and I was like "yes, yes I am, and then tomorrow I am going to write a post about a very womanly thing that I did," and she was like: "Today a post about you being stupid, tomorrow about how gay * you are? what next? a post about buying a toaster oven?" I replied: "I think so blogger. I think thats exactly how its going to play out, unless something else happens, in the meantime, how about you quit lying to me about analytics and get those reports in. Maybe after that I will not post stupid shit about toasters, and womanly stuff."

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*Gay, Like when you cry at pretty woman and your buddies catch you, and they tell you how gay you are. Like that, not actually having sex with a man or something.

The one where Spike Lee yells at me

Yesterday, when I was getting yelled at by Spike Lee, I was thinking to myself, to hell with him. I am the one that lives here. Who made you the king of the outside world? Sure you know Michael Jordan and Reggie Miller and I don't. You know what ? You are the one that evidently Flew to Miami, rented some off duty cops and put some beautiful flowers around the trees that grow from the sidewalk just outside of my building. Me? I live here. I have a right to walk outside of my building and go to the stupid McDonalds thats just down the street for my two for two dollars Egg McMuffin deal. Yes I feel bad about this McDonalds. Yes I wish it was a better McDonalds, instead of the most despicable, last place McDonalds of all the McDonalds in all the world, but you know what? It's MY McDonalds. Our relationship is Messed up, I hate my McDonalds, but I also need the Egg McMuffins. Its like that joke, where the guy goes to the psychiatrist to bitch about how awful his wife is. He tells the psychologist that his wife thinks she is a chicken and he just cant take her neurosis anymore. The psychologist asks why he doesn't divorce her if she thinks she is a chicken? He replies: "because I need the Eggs? duh?" Same thing with me, I hate that dirty, poor service, long ass line McDonalds of mine, but I need the Egg McMuffins.

I felt a little self conscious about the photography, so I don't think I did it justice, but hopefully you can see how we have two signs here, both saying open, but really only the one that I am in has a real person doing anything, and you can tell the one that I am in, because I am the one taking the photograph, and trust me, she wasn't doing anything quickly. There is a woman at the front with her kid. You can see the top of his head in the photo. Next to the kid is a construction worker. he is wearing a Hard hat, just in case someone starts throwing Egg McMuffins I guess. I asked him about the hard hat, and he told me that his head never really developed well from when he was born, like most peoples heads get harder over time, he said he had that soft skull thing going on till he was 40 or so? It was like play doh, Either that, or maybe he is just a construction worker, and I am making some shit up? Maybe that's what he said? Something to the effect like: "What the hell are you doing taking pictures of a line at a McDonalds?" " Of course I work construction, don't you see all the buildings nearby that are being built? who the hell do you think is doing that? Construction workers like me?" Sheese...
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So as a summary, I walked out of my building and get yelled at by Spike Lee, I walk over to my Crappy ass, good for nothing, except two for two dollars Egg McMuffins McDonalds, and a construction worker lays it down for me. -Meanwhile start talking about taxes with my wife, or the situation we find ourselves in with the divorce, and again, someone will be yelling at me. Life is funny like that.
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Here is a picture of the next two spaces to the right, that are just outside of the photograph in the first one. for some reason those two cash registers are "closed" Evidently, the line in the first two were only Gilligans Island type things, with there promise of a "three hour tour" The owners of this particular McDonalds were probably to busy rolling around on a bed full of cash right that very minute, they certainly couldn't be bothered with hiring some other people to, oh, I don't

know, work the registers?

And what the hell is that guy doing behind the "closed Cash register" I think he is getting some cash out so maybe he can wipe his ass after he goes to the bathroom. I am telling you, its the busiest, dirtiest MacDees in all the world, and I wouldn't doubt that they wipe there butts in cash and clean the floor after they close, with particles of gold filled bleach.
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Anyways, I got my Egg McMuffin deal and went back to see what Spike Lee was doing. Earlier, before I got to the McDonalds I had walked outside of my building and found a commercial was being shot. My HighRise had been converted into an urban city streetscape, in which part of her was evidently some kind of a book store or something. I had listened to the guy that was at my door when he told me it was ok to cross the street, so I did just that, in fact he specifically asked/ told me to get out of the way and cross the street. When I got to the safe part, that's across the street like he said, where there were many other civilians just like myself, I took a few pictures. Not soon after that, a guy started yelling: "Stop with the flashing!" Turns out, It was Spike Lee basically yelling at one of his people, to tell me to quit with my picture taking. It wasn't the photographs that bothered him it was my stupid flash. So yes, he wasn't necessarily yelling directly at ME, so maybe I exagerated, but he was yelling at a guy about how bad he sucked because he didn't control me from taking those pictures. I heard what he said and thought to myself the thing that I told you I thought at the beginning of this post, plus on top of that I thought, HEY. Spike Lee is sort of yelling at me? That's pretty cool! and then I quit taking pictures. Really though, they didn't even care if I took pictures, they just cared that My flash didn't go off when they were shooting the scene. So then I took a whole bunch more pictures during the down time between the shots. Making T.V. Commercials is hard work. It entails eating Egg McMuffins and standing around taking pictures in between takes and trying not to get yelled at.
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Here is a picture of My building doing that acting thing that she does. See how she portrays a bookstore here? and yes that is Spike Lee. Don't worry though, I have some better photos that I will put up here in a minute.
These photographs didn't get me yelled at, because they were just setting up the scene when I was taking these. What Pissed Spike off was when they were actually shooting the scene and I took the photos, and again, it wasn't the photographs, it was the flash.
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Here is another look at my building doing the stuff she does with the acting business and being in the background like in that Sony commercial, She is such a damn rock star.
Do you see the poinsettias around the base of the trees? Those are some ACTING flowers to go along with my ACTING Building. Normally we don't have Poinsettias around the base of our trees, normally we have used condoms and stuff. Also that grey box right there acting like a newspaper rack? that's an ACTING Newspaper rack as well. Inside that grey rack is a bunch of stupid papers. This T.V. show/ Commercial, making business requires allot out of my building and allot out of the flowers as well as the newspaper racks.

here is my building in all her tallness. She is a Star of Commercials. She allows me to live in her for now although with all this fancy ass commercial shooting that's going on, pretty soon it will be so hip that I wouldn't be able to afford the rent and I will have to find a less popular building. A building that cares about ME and not all the publicity and money and being in the background of Sony commercials and now this Verizon commercial. A building that may not have topless women sunbathing on its roof. A building that is just ordinary. But for now, I will just enjoy my building and our relationship and worry about that other stuff later.

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Here is the best photo I was able to secure of Spike. Not so tuff now are you when I expose your humanness. You are just another guy Mr. Lee, and its Not the shoes after all.

Plus, just yell at me directly, don't yell at someone on my behalf? Plus what if I call you MARS?

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Thanks for the Link to this post sent over by www.Miamidowntownlife.com

AWESOME T.V. SHOW ALERT

Awesome T.V. show alert. "Weeds" is the Bomb. Its a show from SHOWTIME. I watched the first season last week, I am on the second season now. Each episode gets better then the one before. Extremely well written and funny.

The Mom of an American

For about ten years I had the same lady cut my hair every two or three weeks. She wouldn't move to Miami though, so I have to find someone else. I found a place I can walk to here in the downtown area, and the guy does a pretty good job. I am happy with it, but the problem is he charges to much. Its an upscale barber shop, so its not his fault, but I have to move on, as much as I get my hair cut, I can't be spending 25 bucks every time.

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Yesterday I found another little place and asked the lady how much? Ten Bucks? even if I tip the lady a five spot, that's only fifteen bucks. This is how much a cut should cost and I am thinking SOLID! The lady that told me the price was like the receptionist and retail cashier. (its also a hair products store and a nail place.) She takes me back to the hair cutting chair and introduces me to Lilliana. Lilliana says "Hello" and I start telling her how I want it done. I soon realize this is someone else that doesn't speak English, other then the word hello. She has that down so well that it actually fooled me for a second.

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So in my mind I am trying to think of all the ramifications. The biggest one is that when this is all over, I have some kind of freak looking head? It's not to late to walk away, but I feel that would be kind of rude. I think about going back to the receptionist lady who is clearly bilingual and seeing if she will translate. but then I look in the mirror and figure this isn't Fabio's locks. Its just me, and basically I get a flat top that is rounded on the edges instead of block looking, and its not quite a flat top, its just really short. So I decide to go with the flow. I will grunt, use my body language skills and speak to her in English, only with kind of a Spanish accent, plus I will emphasize key words, saying them in a different tone. That should work. This is my plan, and plus I know that word Gracias, and Seguro, a few others as well so I should be ok . Nothing this lady does will be permanent anyways, and yes she could mess it up pretty bad but I could just be "hat wearing bill" for a few weeks if it comes to it.

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Turns out Its a little shorter on the sides then I normally get, and its a little longer on the top, but overall I am fine with it and I don't even think it requires hat wearing Bill to make his presence known. Plus during this process I found out some things. She is Cuban and she got here by rowing a boat. She did that five years ago and now she has a 4 year old daughter who is American. I could see in her eyes and in her mannerisms how proud she is that her daughter is an American and when she pointed at the picture and clearly said the word AMERICAN, with that huge smile, I got it. I could also see how grateful she is to be here herself. You sometimes forget living this soft ass middle class existence that I do, how awesome this country really is until you risk getting your head butchered up and connect with someone like her. I am grateful she chose to come here and glad I didn't chicken out and walk away from that hair cutting chair when I found out she was a "no speaky".

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Thanks for the link Rick www.southfloridadailyblog.blogspot.com

Tribute to the two loss National Champions

The weekend of October 10th, the first ever two loss National Champion LSU Tigers come to Gainesville. Someone that lives nearby Baton Rouge sent me this photograph today:
Well you know what? So do The Gators , We have our Crystal Balls also, and we only lost ONCE in each of our ball collecting years, like a normal one loss National champion is supposed to.
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I think someones soul got sold to the devil for last years bit of luck. Probably Rich Rodriguez'. If Rich didn't sell his soul to the devil by wishing for an LSU National Championship, Les Miles would have taken that Job at Michigan, and Rodriguez would still be up in West Virginia.

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Also since I don't live in Gainesville anymore this little picture triggered my Memory to try to find a hotel for that particular weekend. I found a 79 dollar hotel room for a mere one hundred and eighty dollars, Booked it quick and got my confirmation number. The website also asked if I would like to request anything special, so I put in " A Gator Victory" So I have the universe already working on that one for me. WHOOOHOOO UNIVERSE! - also shout out to Mr. womens College Basketball lover. I know you would have preferred just a single bed because I am so Sexy and all, but I asked for one with two beds. I think its just better that way.

My McDonalds

So I played hurt yesterday, but I played, and ended up not taking any naps. I went to Lunch at McDonalds. I usually respect myself enough not to do that, but in my injured state I said to heck with it, and walked on over to the worst run, most disgusting McDonalds of all the McDonalds in all the world. Of all the cool stores and restaurants in down town Miami, the McDonalds on 4th street and 2nd avenue just isn't one of them.

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I am just talking about the thing living up to a normal McDonalds, not like I think a McDonalds should have cloth napkins or anything like that. I dont expect McDonalds to cure world peace, stop rising Gas Prices, or cure aids, I just want it to do what its supposed to do and be what its supposed to be. Make me some damn fries that Kick My Taste buds in their metaphorical asses, thats what McDonalds is known for in the end. Give me a crappy little burger, but do it fast. You are a fast food place so this isnt asking much is it? This place is two very short blocks from my home but in my mind it is fast becoming a place that might as well be a million space miles from here. I should know by now to NEVER EVER go to this disgusting place ever again. Its right next to Miami Dade Community College, so it is always packed with college kids. With all the buildings going up in the neighborhood there are tons of construction workers as well. This is a McDonalds that Needs another McDonalds to open up right next door to it, its such a cash cow and I guess the owners are just rolling around in all the money and dont care if they are the crap of the crapiest of all the McDonalds in all the world. They open one cash register and man it with an idiot person from slowvania. The food is like something you would get at a McDonalds, and the lines are only tolerable by looking at how filthy the floors are. They dont understand that McDonalds is supposed to have AWESOME French Fries, they think the fries are supposed to be soggy and cold. As I waited in line today to place my order I thought about quitting my job so that I could come to work for this stupid place and fix it. This place seriously lacks leadership. The tolerance levels for subpar mediocrity is way to low. I hate having the Idiot McDonalds be my McDonalds, but thats what life has dealt me. Of the 10 thousand McDonalds in all the world the one that is in walking distance of my house is in Last Place. Badap bup bup bahhh Immmmmm Lovin it....NOT.

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Party Bill, lets try to wait for the weekends!

He is gone now. He will be back though. Last Night Party Bill showed up and now regular work Bill is not as motivated to do the work stuff as he normally would be. Holy cow. Free Wine, Excellent Music and several new friends later, A real short nights sleep, and then staring at this computer? Its not that I regret last night, Party Bill had a good time. Its just that I wish all the work that is due today would wait. And it would wait, I could just take Long naps interspersed with short little Break naps, and just not do the stuff. It will be fine today. Tomorrow though, when my boss calls to chew me out wouldn't be so awesome as my nap plan sounds today. I think I will compromise. Some napping will go on, but then I will do some of this other stuff also.

The guy that just dropped in yesterday

There is a ton of nuance in all the different things that I am responsible for in my job, but in the end, you can break it all down into three different overall Categories: The Looking, The writing and the Getting their. I am simplifying it and I know that a few insurance people read this blog so I am not trying to offend, It can take years to be able to be good at this gig, because obviously there are a ton of other things to be aware of, and know about, and in fact, the State makes you get a special license because they don't want just anyone doing it, but ultimately it really does come down to these three things. Adjusters have to basically do the following, they have to: 1) Look at it, 2) write about it 3) Get their.

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Ultimately looking at it requires you to get their first, if you have a large territory, the getting their can take a lot of windshield time. The windshield time is what sucks the most out of everything. Especially in South Florida. A drive to West Palm can take over an hour, and that's if you don't have bad traffic. If there really was teleportation like in Star Trek this would be a truly awesome gig. For one, I could live in Gainesville, because the writing it part can be done anywhere, its the looking at it part that requires me to be down here, so that I don't get killed on the behind the windshield part.

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-Anyways I was working out of my office today doing the writing about it part, with the window in the background, and a rope drops by, I figured it was for either a hanging, or a window washer, and sure enough a few minutes later a fellow just dropped in on me:

- I talked to him and asked him if I could take his picture but there was a language issue. Neither of us spoke Russian. I was able to communicate what it was that I was going to do by grabbing the camera and holding it out in such a way that basically through sheer body language and the natural force of my facial movements said: "Hey Mister, I think your job looks like a lot of fun? do you have to drive around allot? Don't you wish there was such a thing as a teleportation device like in Star trek? How do you get to be a High Rise Window Washer? Ever drop in on someone and peek through the window and they happen to be doing it? Did you start out just washing windows on the ground? How cool is the rappelling part? I mean Obviously I can see you rappelling, and it looks like fun, I guess what I am really asking is if I can wash the rest of the windows on the floors below me?"

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I said all that, and then his body language said: "Yes Bill, you may take a picture of me and I know it looks like there are only three parts of my job, Getting to the High Rise, The actual Cleaning of the windows, and the cool ass rappelling part, but there is a lot more to it then that."
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His body language also told me he didn't know who William Shatner was. (this came up because of the Teleportation question and he was all like Dude, I never watched Star trek, I am only twenty something and that show was cancelled before I came of age, plus, I don't speak Russian) . Then, I told him He is the guy from the Priceline commercials and he immediately knew who I was talking about. Its another sign of being old when you make a reference to an old T.V. show and the youngster you are talking with doesn't even know about it.

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Thanks to the South Florida Daily Blog for linking to this post That is so awesome Rick. I love it when you do that! http://www.southfloridadailyblog.blogspot.com/

My Building, The Rock Star

My building is in a T.V. Commercial. Click on this link to see it in the background of the opening scene right before they let out all the foam and then for a little bit after that. Its in one other part but it is so quick that I am not going to try to point it out. The building under construction in which the hard hat guy trys to catch a sud is just down the block. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZBXkrU86YxA
My building is a ROCKSTAR. I live in a ROCKSTAR building.

Honest Lawyer

This was in an establishment that I had lunch at yesterday.

Here is to the Flow part, not the Ebb part

There are up days, and there are down days. Yesterday was a downer. Sometimes I feel like I am a frisbee that was placed inside a drying machine. Not only is the heat hard on my plasticness that is my frisbee skin, The banging around on the sides gives me a headache.

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I had to think about why I was down yesterday, since I am always living inside my head and couldn't just go somewhere else. Turns out, the lack of control over my life is the problem. My job ebbs and flows and when it is flowing it means more work, more money, and when it ebbs, it means less work (yay! less work) but also less money (boo! less money) Then I saw the fake oscar the grouch video, and I laughed and laughed and then I actually figured out how to put a video into my website, so life seemed to be getting its butt off the ebb and back into the flow, then I watched the last four episodes of the first season of weeds. If you have not seen Weeds you really should, its relatively well written, it has a unique premise and plus Mary Louise Parker is in it and the woman can flat out act. She can make her facial expressions talk. I really recommend you put it in your queue.

Advice Video

If thats not solid life lessons for ya, then I dont know what is:

Help the Tuna, or watch the process.

Obviously Miami and Gainesville are two different types of places to live. I just stated something that may seem pretty clear, but I have friends that read this blog, and some of them need that kind of clarification. I love them to death, but still, you can never be to sure about what they understand about life and living and such, --not all of them anyways, Some of them are not as quick as you and I! And NO, I am not talking about YOU, whoever YOU may be that is reading this and wondering if it was YOU I was mentioning just now, by not mentioning you. It’s an authors trick, saying shit, by what they are not saying. Again I am like Hemmingway with all my professionalism and plus the beer drinking and the loving of the South Florida weather.
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Since I have lived in Miami, I have gone to a huge ass Street party called Calle Ocho. I have been to the largest spring Arts Festival in the country. It’s an arts festival that they have every year in the Grove. It’s an art festival four times the size of Gainesville’s own Spring Art festival and plus the Cocaine is way more pure. PLUS, you have to pay a cover charge!

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Ok, I don’t know anything about the Cocaine being more pure, or not, but again I do tend to exaggerate and there really was a cover charge just to Walk in the street of this arts festival! Which, to me, is absolutely crazy, plus, proof they do more and better drugs in this big city then in Gainesville. Who pays a cover to go to a street festival? Druggy ass Miamians, that’s who! Oh yeah plus also me, (I am paying the cover WITHOUT being all drugged up)
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I have been to a Car show, in which they would let you sit in a 96 thousand dollar BMW, but not the 35 thousand dollar Chrysler Sebring? I have been to a Latin American Art Show, and a Porn Convention. I have been to the beach where women don’t even bother with the top parts of their bikinis, and I have spent some time on the roof of my building while some women that evidently live near me, were topless as well. One weekend, I happened upon models playing volleyball for a chance to go on a trip to the Bahamas, and another weekend, I went to a world class movie festival on a par with the Sundance in Colorado. All of this is so awesome and so very cool I can’t really stand it.
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Jennifer Anniston and Owen Wilson are always hanging out with me here in South Florida as well.
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Ok, maybe that’s a lie, but truthfully, they have been hanging out in South Florida, just like me. They are down here filming a movie called Marley and Me. Which, by the way I bought on CD and happened to listen to during one of my Millions and Millions of trips back and forth between Gainesville and Miami. (OK, Millions may also be an exaggeration, but I will do that on you, its another part of who I am)

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I spend an inordinate amount of money driving from Miami to Gainesville to see my kids, and one of the real side joys of all that, is that rare occasion that I
treat myself to a book on CD and listen to it on the way up and back. Marley and Me was one such C.D.
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This upcoming weekend is The NFL Draft weekend, and my first instinct is to hang out at my apartment with all my friends, who, in this particular instance in figuring Friends that live in South Florida, would be none. Zero. Zilch.
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I would watch the draft and be able to study it, and think about it, and truly have a great time. OR, I could actually go to Dolphins stadium and watch there. The fish have invited fans out to do this, and I am thinking about breaking my tradition on what I normally do on draft day and going over to the stadiumt. I am thinking about basically missing the draft so I can go and be NEAR the draft. Its an anomaly and a conundrum, What do you think I should do? Go and hang out with the Tuna, give him some advice he wont take? Or watch it ALLLLLL and I do mean ALLLLLL on t.v. and then feel Guilty about how I wasted my weekend? Which, by the way I have done a million times before.

This upcoming Saturday is one of my favorite days of the year. Not because it’s a day that I do much of anything and when I say This Saturday, I really mean it as if Easter was my favorite holiday. Everyone understands that statement but they also know Easter is like the US Open of holidays in that its always on a different golf course and its always a slightly different day although generally speaking the US open does usually end up concluding on fathers day. But that was a digression.
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Fact is, In Miami you have lots of choices on stuff to do on the weekend and this one has me wondering what the best choice of action might be.

Miami Exxxotica

So I went to Miami EXXXOTICA yesterday, even if it gives me the Stigma of being one of "those" guys as per the Hearse. I don't agree with her, but she is entitled to her opinion. In a way it was like going to a strip club, but in the day, and without full nudity. They were mostly wearing skimpy little outfits and simulating porn. I saw a midget riding a mechanical bull with two women wearing school girl outfits. That's just not a sentence you type much, or a visual you encounter often.

There were scantily clad women hanging out on poles everywhere but unlike in a strip club they did keep what they were wearing on. It was kind of like the PG13 rated version of titty bars, only without the alcohol, nakedness or any obligation on my part to give random women One and five dollar bills:

There was even an Exotic car at this Exxxotica outing:




There was simulated lesbianism:

There were DVD's for sale, there were booths where you could purchase all types of Sex Toys and there was a pillow league fight club match officiated by Suzy Boozy the reigning but retired world champion of the pillow fight league.

And there were real life adult film stars including Jesse Jane who took a photograph with me and who also signed an autograph (Brian from MPLS you were right) I didn't really ask for her autograph, she just gave me one because I stood in line to see her. It was nice and I couldn't turn her down. But I also didn't wait in line to see Stormy Daniels or Gina Lynn or any of the others:

The Billster and Jesse Jane.

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Another weird experience was talking to Audrey Maxx and her Boyfriend/ husband. They have their own little website and they had a video running while they were standing around their little booth "fully covered " So I am talking with them and having a conversation with them, while this video of them going at it is playing right in the background, it was kind of weird. but you know what? they didn't care so neither did I.

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LINKS TO THIS POST: www.southfloridadailyblog.blogspot.com

Bill goes to the convention center

Plans for this weekend? Going to work from the office today. Hopefully I will be able to get what I need to have done by 2pm, or at the latest 3pm. Going to hit the treadmill in my never ending battle against time, age and a slowing metabolism. Then, after about an hour of that I will come back, shower and go have a few cocktails, then home to continue my relationship with Netflix. I love Netflix.

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Saturday? There is some kind of a porno convention at the Miami Beach Convention center, not being IN the industry, I am not really sure what one does at a porno convention. Do you go to the various booths and learn about new ways of sucking dick? Cause that's not for me at all. I wont go to those booths. As porn is so huge on the Internet, maybe there will be booths where you learn about new ways to send lesbian lovin over the world wide web? What kind of Freebies do they give out at a porn convention? Condoms, DVD's?

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I don't know what the hell you do at a Porn Convention, but I am going to see, and I will let you know in a future post...

Update on Dennis Blunden

Where and what has Dennis Blunden been up to? Who exactly is Dennis Blunden? He was the heavyset guy on head of the class, that's who. His real name is Dan Schneider and he is currently a writer and executive producer for a T.V. show called I-Carly. Yesterday he was in the audience of American Idol and My Internet friend. (Midwesterner in NY,) caught him on TiVo. Because He blogs, (midwesterner, Not Blunden) we were able to figure out what he is up to, apparently going to American Idol shows and writing children's T.V.

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And when I say "we" I mostly mean Midwesterner, although as you can see after you hop on board this Magic link spot and zoom to a computer in NYC, I did have a CRUCIAL and VITAL role in helping: http://midwesternerinnyc.blogspot.com/2008/04/if-it-is-him-mr-moore-would-be-proud.html Okay that's me patting myself on the back for work and hustle other people did... See what an Awesome manager I used to be?

Melbourne, Lichtenstein, and Rhode Island

Sometimes I wish I lived in Rhode Island. Like Yesterday, when I had to drive half this Damn Peninsula. The long way, from South To North. I kept looking out of that Damn windshield thinking, if I lived in Rhode Island I would be there by now. Or what about Lichtenstein? That's an entire country that's about the same size as Rhode Island. I could have drove across The entire Country yesterday if I lived in Lichtenstein. Except I would have received a ticket because I was driving on the right side of the road, and Lichtensteinians drive on the Left. They are like the British in that regard. I love the word LICHTENSTEINIANS. If Lesbian Porn stars from Europe had a rock and roll band, they could name themselves the LICHTENSTEINIANS.

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Also, Spell check doesn't know what to do with the name of My lesbian porn star rock and roll band. Ease up spellcheck just kind of go with the flow.

The Cuban Cigar I turned down

Doing my thing today that I do to earn the greenbacks, and no, I am not talking about either golfing, OR writing on my blog. I am talking about the whole insurance adjusting thing. I met with an Elderly Cuban Fellow. So far, most Latin Americans I have met speak English as well as Spanish. There are some exceptions here and there. The Hot Dog stand lady is one. The Cuban lady whose house I was in the day Fidel stepped down is another , and today the fellow I met had very limited English skills although he did end up telling me he has lived in America for 31 years through an interpreter.

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I find that whole dynamic of trying to communicate with people who don't speak English absolutely fascinating. I don't know a damn bit of Spanish and he didn't know hardly any English. We ended up engaging a friend of his who was bilingual, and for the hour or so that I was there, the three of us communicated and figured out what it was that we needed to get done. In the end, the older fellow that I was there to see offered to bring me back some Cigars from Cuba. (he was planning on going there for the first time in over 10 years, next week) I declined, as it is against company policy to take Gifts from clients and I thought about it and losing my job over a Cuban Cigar just seemed kind of stupid.

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It did make me think though. A long time ago I had a Cuban Cigar. It was good, although it wasn't magical or anything. I think the Cuban Cigar gets its Status from the embargo. If America gave up on that policy, people would realize that although a Cuban Cigar is good, it is not any better then a 12 dollar Macunudo or a Dominican.

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I also asked him what he did for a living while here for 31 years without being able to speak English. He was a cabinet maker. he was a good man, I could tell. I liked him. There was something about him that shined through and even though we had our difficulty communicating I could tell he was a decent and solid fellow. He loved America that's for damn sure. It makes you understand how cool of a place this is. I love that about Miami....

A paid advertisement

I have played golf while going about the business of earning my living. In a sense, I was a professional golfer. On the occasions where my job called for me to hit them at some kind of industry golf outing, I joyfully, and enthusiastically did so. There is even an event coming up soon at the beginning of May. Can’t wait! It’s just a part of who I am, and what I do for a living. The Golf is paid for by the company, or a vendor. My salary is not docked, and I don’t put it down as a day off. So as you can see, I have in fact, been paid to play Golf. In that sense I am basically the same guy as Tiger Woods. We both play golf for money. Plus if I make a long ass double breaking putt, I will do the old fist pump into the air like I was born for just that very moment. If you saw me do that, and then saw Tiger’s double Pump you would feel bad for Tiger to the extent that anyone could feel bad for one of the greatest men alive, who is rich beyond rich, plays better golf then everyone on the planet and has a super hot wife. (I admit I have a man crush on Tiger)

When I am playing Golf, I think of myself as a golfer much like Tiger Woods, just like when I dance I like to think of myself as on a par with John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. It goes on like that in my mind based on pretty much whatever I am doing. So when I am being paid to golf I will wear the red shirt to symbolize the blood in the water as I shoot my way around the course in just under a hundred strokes (or sometimes just over and I really hate it when it is the just over outcome)

This post is also a lot like that, in the sense that it is my first paid post. That’s right, this post was paid for. I am a lot like Earnest Hemingway in that Regard, in that He was paid to write, and now I am being paid to write. Plus we both like our beer, The ladies, and Sunny South Florida, only I am not planning on Shooting myself in the head, nor running with any Damn bulls in Pamplona.

I was asked to review a book and then write about it in my little corner of the World Wide Web. My payment you ask? The book itself, a $39.95 value. Yes it may not be greenbacks but it is barter, which is one of the oldest forms of commerce in the world. Prostitutes in the 1800’s used to give it up in exchange for chickens. Entire economies in the middle ages subsisted on the principles of barter, so yes, Maybe Hemingway was never paid for: The Sun Also Rises with chicken sex, but then again, he shot himself, so we might not ever know.

The book is called: Historic photos of Greater Miami It was put together by Seth H. Bramson. He is a member of the faculty at Barry University as well as Florida International University.

Page 12 shows a photograph of the corner of what is now Miami Ave and Flagler Street. Of course it was taken around the turn of the century and in the photo, that intersection is just a lot of trees, a wooden shack and a dirt road. That’s An Intersection that if there were no buildings between my place and that corner, I could hit an Eight iron and reach it. (Tiger would probably use a wedge and he could hit over the buildings that are there now, I am sure) Page 15 shows a wooden shack that is at “today's” second street and First avenue. A mere one block from my apartment! It goes on and on, but as you can probably tell by the title, and my description so far, the book basically consists of Pictures of Miami from back in the day. It is absolutely fascinating and you should go out and buy one. If you live in Oklahoma you should buy two, because that’s a state I still envision as having a lot of dirt roads and wooden shacks and stuff. You can get it at Amazon.com and you don’t even have to tell anyone I sent you. They also have the same titles for Broward and Palm Beach. And if you don’t get it for the outstanding history and photographs of South Florida, get it for your coffee table.

I only recently became the owner of a coffee table. As a married man for the last fifteen years, our home never had a working coffee table, or even a non-working coffee table. It just wasn’t done and I didn’t question it. I move out on my own, and almost immediately acquire a coffee table and have no coffee table book, then out of nowhere I am asked by a lady that lives in a state where they wear that burnt Ass Orange on Saturdays in the fall, and she sends me one, only asking that I review it and post about it. Damn straight I will! and even though I sent a complete stranger my mailing Address and the people from the witness protection program do really frown on That, I did it anyways, and I did it for my Coffee Table. I am telling you, it is serendipity. It is Karma, It is the universe working in the ways that it does. It is the most beautiful thing to ever happen to my coffee table. Before that fateful E-mail asking me to send my address so that they could send me this beautiful Coffee table book, my Coffee table was alone and sad. See the photograph below:

Look at how lonely and naked my coffee table is in this photograph. He has pride, and sure, occasionally I would lay a Miami Herald down on it, maybe a glass of coke. My keys? A Magazine or two, but never a coffee table book. I just didn’t have one. He treated the magazines and the newspapers with respect, but always knew they were just in and out of his little Coffee table life. He gave up hoping for a book that he could grow old with. Until now. Look at this photograph below:

Look at My Coffee Table and My book, together, just like they were meant to be. I am happy for my table and I am happy for my book, I love that I play golf for money sometimes, and now my Blog posting life has also been forever altered in a good way with my first paid writing, or Swag or whatever you want to call it. They make a nice pairing, this table and book of mine and will happily grow old together. If you don’t buy one of these books for the cool pictures and commentary, do it for your coffee table. Do it for all that is right in this world. Elliott Spitzer, buy three of them, one for you, one for your wife and one for your hooker. Bill Romanowski? You should buy two, one to rip up with your bare hands in a fit of Roid rage and one for YOUR coffee table.

My Son, Just Telling It How It Is.

A few years ago while at the Sports Park, I was out on the softball field and My son was in the bleachers. He was about 5 years old at the time. A friend of mine was also in the bleachers and she told me what happened.

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Apparently, My son walked right up to the girlfriend of one of my teammates and told her that She wasn't as pretty as his Mommy, For good measure, he also told her that her feet smelled. He had never met this woman before in his life.

Spaghetti for Dinner?

Last Winter break, I had my kids down here in South Florida and we stayed with my Dad. (This was before I had an apartment in Miami.) The night before we left to take them back to Gainesville, we had Spaghetti for dinner. The next morning my son was sick to his stomach and threw up a little. He had an upset stomach, no one else that ate the spaghetti got sick.

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Yesterday when we went over to My Dads apartment to visit ,the first thing My son said to My Dads Girlfriend was: " I am not eating any of your spaghetti, it makes me sick"

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Romo Won

My failure to include Bill Romanowski references in the last two posts is duly noted.

Lincoln Theatre

My daughter just recently dressed up like Abe Lincoln and gave a short speech on the man to both the third grade class at her school and most of the parents of her classmates. She is in tune with what went on with the man to the extent any fifth grader is.

Yesterday, we were walking down Lincoln Road in South Beach and came across the Lincoln Theatre. This really amused her and she thought it was funny that they would name a theatre after a person that was killed while in a theatre. It would be like naming a convertible, the Kennedy Convertible.

Dancing Hair

As we were driving back from Universal Studios we had the roof down. My Daughter's hair was whipping all over the place. My son said: "Look daddy, her hair is dancing."
Here is to "Dancing" hair....

The Vaudeville Post

This blog post is not about any one thing, but rather a variety of things. Think of it like the days of Vaudeville. You get a little Drama, a little Comedy, a little Polka Music, Eat some popcorn and smoke a cheap cigar while you wear a three piece suit and have a funny mustache.

First of all, an alert reader, after reading yesterdays post sent this follow up story in to me via my personal E-mail: http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,345489,00.html
It’s a follow up story on the gator thing from yesterday, only it has a different cast of characters and a different outcome.
Its like a sequel, except all the original actors are big time now so they used the cast from saving the bell for the remake.

In this one, the reptile doesn’t become shoes, but somebody does end up at the doctor discussing bite wounds. We also have a hero in her husband. Plus, this is just part of a blog post and a link for me, for the people the story is about, it’s a lifelong memory.

I wouldn’t want to go through what they went through, but if I did, I would damn sure want to talk about it every chance I had for the rest of my life. I am sure my friends would listen to me tell it for a little while, till they told me to shut the fuck up about it….

In other news, the fact that I heard about this particular Gator/ Croc story from my friend offline is, in and of itself, a topic to point out. Ok, technically, she sent it to me online, but it wasn’t on the blog world part of the online, it was on the oh so nineteen nineties E-Mail part of the online.

She could have just posted her comment in the comments section and even pasted the link in there, but she didn’t. I understand her very well though, the woman once hit me in the head with a softball while I was looking in another direction. Damn near broke my glasses. (I only wear glasses when I am pitching to look like wild thing from Major League, I see fucking absolutely perfect, If perfect is kind of blurry looking and hazy and stuff) My point here though, is all of my real world friends, except for one exception, (shout out to Manningstalker) live in a world where if you comment in the comments section of a blog, you might find yourself slathered in chocolate and locked up in a tiny little prison cell with hugely muscled up gay men who adore chocolate, so I don’t judge you guys not commenting. I completely understand.

As far as some other vaudeville stuff I want to tell you about, hang with me here as we post a picture of a beautiful looking family.


That’s all I have about that, nothing extra to say. Sometimes Genius needs to be left alone and that is such a Genius photograph. I hope everyone just quits reading my brilliant writing just now and look at that picture and let their souls commune with the universe. Its just such a poignant snapshot of Mullethead …..

Finally, as we close on yet another completely different vaudeville act: This is the one where I tell you how much I am looking forward to the upcoming week. Spring break is here and I am lucky enough to have my kids for the whole week. In all honesty I am overjoyed about the situation, but also am feeling slightly anxious about it. Being a Single parent is nothing I ever wanted for myself, just as I know my wife didn’t either. She is doing a very outstanding job as the starting parent, I am just glad that She was able to lead our team/ family in such a blowout, that the backup parent (me) gets a little playing time this week. I understand its not the total real deal as they are off from school and stuff, just like the backup roots for a blowout type win so he can get his playing time. It will be my best week in a really long while. I miss ....anyways its like Forest Gump says: That's all I have to say about that....

I am out of here, I have 332 miles to drive tomorrow just to get them, and then another buck ten back down to Orlando so that we can go to the place where you get to stand in line for twenty nine minutes, just so you can ride an attraction for three minutes. Saturday will be like my sex life evidently, if foreplay is equivalent to waiting in lines and the good stuff is the actual rides themselves.

I wont be posting again till Monday. I recommend you come back though, and read this again if you miss me. I know Bill Romanowski will be here multiple times, I think the Roids hurt his memory retention and he will vaguely recall seeing his name in this post but then forget it, but he will have such warm feelings overall about this blog post that he will just click and re-click. In fact he will be Clickilicious. I wont even be able to respond to any comments till Monday. (maybe Sunday)

Only in South Florida

There is a story in today’s Miami Herald that can be read here: http://www.miamiherald.com/top_stories/story/479439.html

The gist of the thing is that a Ten foot gator blocked some traffic, and because of that, in about six months you can buy some shoes made up of his skin, and next week you can eat parts of his tail. There is such discrimination down here, if it had been a crocodile, they would have released it back into the wild, But a real live Gator? Just make him into lunch, shoes and a briefcase.

This story amused me quite a bit, one of the aspects that tickled me, was the deputy trying to reason with the big fellow. “Get back into the canal” He yelled through a bull horn. I am sure he was doing that more for the people standing around watching the scene unfold then any real attempt at Sheriff/reptile communication. Plus he used English and most of our gators down here speak Spanish when they do speak. That is probably why they did not call in Dr. Doolittle. Sure Doolittle is famous for being able to talk with animals, but DUH, the animals he talks with all speak ENGLISH. That Deputy is a funny dude, just hamming it up for the love of the theatre that scene must have evoked.

Then when they snared him with that rope he did his total roll thing, pretty scary when Tarzan is struggling with ya in the river big guy, not so much on the side of the road next to the overpass.

And what about that guy who ends up with the first $280.00 bucks from the Hyde of this gator? He has a bad ass job, wrestling Gators and stuff like that. It reminds me of how freaking Crazy Bill Romanowski is, That is a guy who would not even wait for the rope to get around that gator's neck before he would start kicking that Gators ass.

Not this wave, maybe the next one.

I was expecting a completely different post then the one that follows. The post I was expecting, I have been thinking of for about a week now. Turns out the wave that is this post, once again failed to break correctly. So instead, I find myself with sand in my swimsuit and a sunburn on my shoulders while I wait for that particular ride to come on in. I don’t mind the sunburn so much, or even the sand in the crack of my ass. I can take a shower and fix all that. What I hate is the sand in the car, or in this case, the crappy little post with all the Metaphors about being at the beach that I ended up with.

For one, Its a bitch to vacuum a car, and for two, even after YOU do vacuum, it seems like you never get it all out on the first try. It’s just like things I think about when I write. It doesn’t always come out of my head and get on the computer screen exactly the way I would like it, Plus I am always at those rental car washes scrounging up quarters to pay for the suck.

I am constantly leaning over to put the hose where the dirt is and sometimes the dirt just sticks there in those little crevices of my blog posting mind. errrr… I mean the sand gets in the corners of the seats, and the vacuum wont reach? Plus Some of you just read that and made up porn type stuff in YOUR minds. Plus it kind of hurts my back. (both the vacuuming and posting)

Additionally there is always a homeless type fellow just hanging around, the car wash, bumming quarters, and you just feel empathy for the guy, so you give him a few of your vacuuming quarters. You are figuring you will just change another dollar bill in the change machine, but of course, that’s when the change machine gets all finicky on your ass, and keeps spitting that bill back at you like you are Jerry Rice and it is Bill Romanowski. *

And if it’s not a homeless guy distracting you when you are vacuuming out your car, Its E-mails from your work life, or something equivalent, like a t.v. show, when you are trying to be bloger McBloggity.

Stupid Change machine, Stupid wave not breaking correctly……Stupid conscious, for giving that guy the last few quarters you need so you can just vacuum out your car, you know, or write a blog post?


*Bill Romanowski used to be quite the bad ass football player and during one game he spit in Jerry Rices face. Plus, over the next five blog posts I am going to sneak a Bill Romanowski reference in, one way or another, even though I
have no idea what the next five blog posts are going to be about, and don’t know a whole hell of a lot about Romo either. It’s just a fun game I am going to play with myself. --- I know, I just said: “Play with myself.” I hope you get a text Message RIGHT NOW on your phone about SEEXY teens.

The first quarter of 2008, and a summary of why I blog

Here I am looking out that massive ass window of mine. The thing is huge, it’s six foot five , by six foot six, and it’s the little fellow out of the two windows I have in my Apartment. It looks out over the downtown high rises to the south, and it is my window to the birds and the clouds, and the sun in the day, and the stars and the city at night. About half my job entails me sitting here and writing on this computer that I also happen to use to blog with, so I look out this window allot.

The Centrust building* is Purple tonight, as I type out this post, all alone in my high rise loft apartment. It’s been that way for four days now. (not me being alone, the color of the building) It probably knows I have been hanging around my LSU friend and his buddies for awhile, so it silently mocks me for all those gutsy fourth down calls old Les miles made that 2nd October Saturday night of late last year against My Gators.

It’s only been a few months since I moved to Miami, but it seems like a lifetime ago that I had a residence in Gainesville, and decades before that, when I lived in that big suburban house on top of that hill, with my two kids, wife, dog and cat.

Back then, I had a job that paid me for leading people and taking on responsibility. I evidently just couldn’t lead my family.

I also had that Free Cell phone that never bothered me at 5:30 in the morning to tell me where I could look at Porn.**

There was Tech support if my computer crashed.

The checks were regular and came every two weeks. The car I drove was owned by the company and they also threw in a gas card. Yet the stuff going on outside of my control within my family life was killing me. Do you hear me? How do you shout in a blog? by just using a bunch of exclamation marks? Well then here !!!!!!! I wondered when it was all going to come crashing down. We fought and argued and I just never understood. I couldn’t ever figure out the things that went on around me in my own home, and was so very afraid to talk to anyone on the outside about the cancer that was infecting us.

I destroyed all that though, and although I am not going to act like I did it on purpose, I will tell you that it’s probably for the better. Don’t get me wrong, I still wish the phone I have
to pay for wasn’t so worried about me seeing porn all the time, And acted more like that other phone, where the minutes were always available, and the bill went somewhere else. I miss that
allot. THIS JUST IN: Cell phone bills going to other people that then pay them with money that is not yours, is a great thing to have.

I miss so much about where I used to work, mostly because it was a good job, based in Gainesville and It sucks to live five and a half hours away from your kids.

Today, after nearly a quarter of a year living in Miami, I am doing ok, if not great, and I am in control of my own time. Its like they say: having people work for you creates stress. Being in control of your own time and schedule and only being responsible for yourself can work wonders on your overall attitude about life. I have also laid down my first quarter of blogging as well.

Blogging is a new hobby I started during the transition from moving to Miami. So for this quarter, it has been a new thing I do. I worry about it sometimes. I desperately don’t want to suck at it, and I know sometimes I do. But I do it because I like it as an avenue to express myself. I do it to keep my mind sharp and think about stuff. Sometimes I think about Stuff I think I need, but really, I made it this far without whatever it is that I am thinking about, so I am pretty sure I don’t need any of it anyways. The best example of this is a boat, I so need a boat, and really the LAST thing I need is a boat.

Most of my blogging so far, has been stuff that I think is kind of funny, but sometimes, like right now in this very post I can use it as an avenue to reflect. You know why? Because it’s My blog that’s why, and I can do what I need to do and write what I want to write about, and its just a little part of me. Don’t get me wrong, on this either, I totally love that my hit counter has been growing as I go along, and I love that I am somewhere, creating something that people waste there time at reading while at work, instead of doing whatever there job is. Midwesterner in New York and Zombie fights Shark did that for me, and they still do. But now I can pass it on.

If you don’t blog yourself, you may think it is easier then it really is. Trying to write a post every day that doesn’t suck, is not really all that easy though, and caring about people that are goofing off at work is part of who I am. I know. I have written some sucky ass posts. I haven't had hater comments yet myself, but I know they are out there because I read good blogs written by witty people that just let it hang out and I know how it works. Some
day I hope to have a large enough readership to have my own haters.

I do it to stay close to my friends that don’t live here in Miami. Really, that’s the reason I started it, I waited till it had some legs to it before I really told anyone in the real world, but truth be told that was my biggest reason. I do it to keep in contact with them. There is Mr. and Mrs Cuban and the Quick draw brothers as well as Superman, the Vacuum and Huizenga. There are so many others that I haven’t given secret Blog identities to and I don’t want to go into all that, but some of them I went to College with, and some have had their own posts where I fuck with them about how much Women's college Basketball they know about. This just in to his Sisters: He would have called you tonight, but LSU is playing Carolina in the Final Four.

There are others, I just haven't laid down a way to identify them without you know, identifying them. I also enjoy staying in contact with my Ex-wife to be,--- Although when I first started it, I didn’t think about that at all. In fact, somehow I kind of figured she would never find out about it. I love her very much, even though I ALSO…

Never mind, there is no time to get into all of our problems, and this isn't the place. And you and I, we have some serious business together to raise those kids as best we can, with the issues we have. So just remember, I am sorry.

I have met some wonderful bloggers that live throughout the country because of this new hobby of mine. My Man Brian in MPLS is smart and witty, and he reminds me of a younger me. Same thing with the Native Minnow, although he cuts frogs and worms open for a living, and that’s pretty gross. Didn’t he see my post about what the Japanese are doing with See through frogs? I think all Biologist should be working on this angle. The world NEEDS see through frogs.

Phoenix Hearse lives a pretty awesome life and she will tell you about it in her blog if you will just read it. She is witty and smart and things she sees are really kind of amusing. The Hedonist is my first Bulldog friend, and I understand she is not a friend, she is just like the rest of them. They are people I don’t know who don’t know me, but whom I personally kind of admire for their ability to write a witty and amusing blog that touches me on some level and those levels are different, both across the blogs and within their own blogs from post to post. Some Cranky Guy is also a good read, and South Florida Daily Blog is truly awesome. Sailor Moon doesnt post as much, but when she does, she also makes me laugh. I am still trying to work off that pesky midget.

I appreciate what they do in putting it out there and they are the types of people that if we knew each other in the real world I do think we would be friends. I leave you on this. My world has changed over the past year. During the last twelve months I no longer work at the job I had for nine years. I no longer live with my wife and kids. My mom died, my dog died, I am going through a divorce, I cant seem to pitch a softball for strikes anymore to save my life. Angelina Jolie Never calls, they still cut open frogs even though the Japanese have made a super frog with see through skin, and through all of this, I would say the happiest I have been in a long time is right now. Here is to the past quarter. Hope the next quarter rock and rolls as well.

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* I know its the Bank of America Building, I just prefer to call it the Centrust building.

** This refers to an earlier post. If it doesnt make sense to you, read that post, it was in March .

All the Bloggers I mentioned can be found on my sidebar under the heading blogs Iread and then dont feel shame walking home the next day.