Yeah� sounds good, but anyway.

I started off the day thinking it was just going to be a usual, calm, quiet kind of day with hardly any visitors if any at all.

Then reality threw a monkey wrench into my thinking process and peace and quiet was the last thing I had. Ok I�m not complaining. Not at all in fact especially since I saw a few friends I haven�t seen in quite awhile.

First off early in the afternoon a friend of mine stopped by to hang out. He is originally the younger brother of an old friend of mine, but with time we have become close friends.

Seeing as he lives out of town now and doesn�t have a car I hardly ever see him anymore. So this visit was nice except for the part where he regaled me with tales of deep drama. All from, not surprisingly, friends I know of who live for drama in there lives on a regular basis.

This brings me to one of many problems with living in such a small town. There is not much you can do in a small town when it gets a bit later at night. After a point the only thing open is Wal-Mart, Meijer, and a plethora of bars.

So you are left with only a few things you can do past six o�clock at night.

1. Night Hunting

This is Michigan here. We have more wood then your average porn star. So we have plenty of grazing grounds for wild life to grow.

Ok so hunting season officially * and when I say officially I mean legally* is only a few months a year. But hell its dark out, if I come across a DNR officer you can just run like hell and hope they don�t see you.

Other then night hunting and the occasionally militia meeting your gun is just gonna sit on your nice little wrack and collect dust till next season!

So go get yourself a flashlight and some extra ammo. Its time to see what wild *we hope it�s wild and not domesticated or�human* life and see if we can literally bore a new asshole in it.

Usually this requires considerable amounts of alcohol before making such a trek.

2. Fucking like bunnies.

Alright so it is the weekend, you�re bored and horny, what is there to do?

Well someone has got to be throwing a party somewhere and you know what that means.

Complete loss of inhibitions, cognitive thinking, and no thought of consequences till the morning after.

SCORE!

So if you have no problem spending all your money on drinks rather then �oh I don�t know, let�s say rent or food or those annoyingly persistent bills. Then my friend this is the route for you.

And seeing as this is a small ass town that breeds alcoholics you don�t really have to wait for weekends to do this. Or wait for an actual party to happen. Or even wait till its night time or not morning to start.

Hell the only time you can�t do it is between the hours of 2 A.M. and 6 A.M. when it�s illegal to sell any kind alcohol in this state.

Unless you are an alcoholic with a PDA set to remind you �stock up before two in the morning.�

Then you are good to go.

3. Turn a corner. See a bar. Go in.

Any new business that comes here realizes one simple fact. Down town is a dying area and the only good business it a few miles out on the high way.

Unless you�re a bar then move your licensed ass right down town cause they are just waiting for you with open arms.

Right now down town here has only two consistent things going on. �Mom and Pop� specialty stores and bars. And at the rate those specialty stores are dropping off, the bars will soon be on the winning side of being the most business still open in a rural area.

No need to bring alcohol this time. Just bring cash�lots of it. And you�re not fooling any one with that stashed twenty in your sock saved for �something important.� We all know you�ll run out of your other cash, but not be quite sloshed enough to drunkenly confess your love for your sister then punch out your best friend because he looked at your beer kind of funny.

Do you sense a running theme here?

Let me give you a hint. There is a legal age for which you can purchase this. And it�s like a comedic elixir that doesn�t quite work right. Where as you think every last thing you say is the funniest shit you ever heard in your life. Unless others have down this �elixir� also, you are just the rambling guy in the corner who mumbles something incoherent then be the only one who laughs.

Little break in my story and I�ll get right back into it.

Isn�t orange juice like the greatest shit in existence?

Seriously it�s like liquid sugar that shit is so damn sweet. And its not like they add sugar to the product *something I can�t confirm*. Orange juice just naturally tastes like you breed a piece of fruit with some sugar cane.

I swear if I ever cut myself off caffeine I�ll go on a strict, purely orange juice drinking binge. I�ll buy this shit by the truck load and keep it chilled. And that is just not good enough. I�ll then make orange juice ice cubes to put in my glasses of orange juice so it always stays properly chilled through out my luscious drinking period. And�given sometime the cubes will melt and I�ll have more fucking orange juice!

*ahem* sorry�.I just really like orange juice and every taste of it is like �wow..why don�t I drink more of this shit?� kind of moments.

Anyways�back to my story.

As soon as I refill my glass with the sweet nectar of the gods.

Ah there we go, full glass and I�m ready to continue.

So after many hours my friend finally catches a ride home and just before he leaves I get a visit from my next door neighbor and good friend Ex-Prego.

Seems her and Dragonhawke want me to do them a little favor tonight. See this would be the first night off Dragonhawke had for awhile and the two of them wanted to hit karaoke night at one of the many bars on this street.

So they need a baby sitter for Baby G for a few hours.

That would be me.

And they where very crafty on how to convince me to watch Baby G. It�s a simple and direct plan. Bring over there Play Station 2 with Ever Quest online complete with dial up access and everything for me to borrow for as long as I want!

Oh yeah that�s it, hit my sweet spot ba-bay! Oh oh oh�just a bit faster�oh oh OOOOOHHH down just a bit.

Heehee that tickles!

*cough* �er�anyway.

So it was pretty easy to convince me to watch Baby G for like three hours so they can have some karaoke fun. And hell its late at night, the little drooling machine is out cold in his crib. I just need to check up on him once and awhile and make sure he is still there and breathing.

How fucking hard can that be?

Why�oh why do I always set myself up like that? Someone explain this to me. I like to think I�m a semi-logical man, but I can never seem to grasp the simple logic of don�t tempt mother fucking fate!

So about twenty minutes after they take off I go in and check on Baby G to make sure he is still sound asleep.

So I walk into his dark room and I can barely see shit. But I can see Baby G stand up in his crib and lean against the side once I�m three steps into the room.

That�s when I completely freeze in my spot like I�m pre-historic man and I accidentally ran across the nest of a hunter who seeks by motion only.

If I don�t move he might not see me in the dark and just lay down back to sleep. Just wait it out in this position and maybe�just maybe he�ll get bored looking for me and go back to bed.

That�s when the feeling of running across a nest turned into running into a planned trap meant to catch my ass for super.

I should have known something was up when he didn�t stand up till I was to far into the room to jump back out and pretend I wasn�t there.

So as I�m standing there mumbling a mantra �please don�t cry, please don�t cry, please don�t cry� he begins balling his damn head off.

Damn it!

So I try doing everything I can think of to put him back to sleep. I first begin rubbing his back in smooth, consistent motions. This was working real well�if he didn�t insist on clinging onto that rail for dear life. Which meant I had to try and lay him down as peacefully as I could so he could sleep.

Get him on his back and he is back to balling like I just got done shitting on his cookies.

So I try rubbing his back as he is laying there, but that turns out to be a no go.

Well no kind of rubbing is quieting him down so I decide to start rocking the cradle back and forth. Try and lull him back to sleep with consistent motion back and forth.

Worked real well...if I was willing to sit there and rock it back and forth the next three hours or so. He would only remain peaceful and a near rest state if it kept rocking back and forth.

Short of putting together a make shift perpetual motion machine I needed to come up with another plan.

I figure he just isn�t going to go back to sleep now till he gets a little attention. So I scoop him up and take him out to the living room. I sit him down in the crook of my arm like I�m not just a human, but a make shift recliner. I bounced him lightly and double quick he is no longer crying.

Though with my weak ass stomach I was trying hard not to toss my dinner on him when I got him in the light and realized he had a snot string hanging from his nose like an alien had earlier infested his body and is now trying to escape that horrible shrieking noise.

Gag reflex put in cheek and a quick swipe with a hanky later. I�m keeping a situation from turning ironic when I puke on him rather then the other way around from happening.

After a point he seems content just sitting there in the crook of my arm and starring at me silently with those unblinking eyes.

As if his obsessive starring at me wasn�t bad enough in the past. Now not only is he doing it even longer then normal, but he is getting a nice up close look.

Yeah well I�m getting bored, let�s turn on the TV and find something good.

Can I just say this? Would it be out of line of me to put up a petition to mutilate whoever coined the phrase �universal remote�?

See there digital cable remote control is also �universal� to handle all your other TV viewing pleasure. Not very universal when there brand name, just bought a month ago TV can�t be turned on by this piece of shit.

And guess what�baby in arm and I dare not stand up and get him to crying again. I can�t find the regular fucking television remote control if my life *or in this case sanity* depended on it.

An hour and forty seven minutes I sat there in complete silence before Baby G showed his first signs of being actually tired. Which was a pretty good ruse he played on me seeing as he wasn�t actually tired enough to sleep just tired enough to look like he would. That or he threw some sympathy my way by pretending to be tired so I could stand him up, put him in the cradle and listen to him bawl thirty seconds later, then take him back out in the living room making sure I turn the TV on this time.

Though it wasn�t complete silence for that hour and forty seven minutes. I had a captured audience with no verbal skills able to annunciate how much my jokes suck.

So I spent a good amount of that time throwing some of my best jokes at him. Cracking with the humor about the situation I�m in and how he looks at me like he is practicing for his future Ritalin prescription.

Didn�t crack one fucking laugh. Not even a sympathetic chuckle or a weak smile. Just sat there in his little thrown and stared at me like he was trying to say �make me laugh, funny man or I�ll have your head!�

Then he proceeded to show me that he could be considerably funnier then me. As he was slapping my chest he reached down and began fiddling with my nipple like I could produce milk.

�Whoa there Baby G�don�t play with that. It�s not like it looks like your mommy�s breast because I mean mine is all covered in hair.�

And with the most perfect timing I�ve ever seen he looks up at me with this cool, casual look like he was saying �don�t be so sure about that, buddy.�

Little bastard just one upped me!

Thankfully after three and a half hours of this Ex-Prego and Dragonhawke came walking in the door. Which was fantastic timing since Baby G started balling his little head off and nothing I could do would change that fact.

Well I could have changed his diaper that he had just dropped a bomb in, but fuck that. I don�t love me some Play Station lovin that much.

After the exchange of shit laced diaper to fresh one I stuck around to bullshit with them and a couple other friends I hadn�t seen in a very long time also.

One of them, I found out just recently, actually has a diary here on our lovely and demented Diaryland.

So go ahead and give little lovin to a good friend and very lovely woman Willow Rain for me and send her some good lucks on her up coming surgery.

And while I�m giving out the love let me just point out a very special lady, miss bisa pet, has had a very shitty day and could use a little encouragement and support.

Cause you know�I�m all about the lovin.

To bad I can�t find someone other then my hand to give said lovin too.

Oh�.I almost forgot the special effects I mentioned I would give in the last entry.

�slips out a couple little champagne bottle shaped party poppers and shoots them in the air while waving around a flash light like a maniac.*

Whoa�like I�m in a Matrix movie and shit.

Never say I don�t give you the good shit people.

It's about time - Wednesday, Jul. 07, 2004
An Honor for Chrome - Friday, Feb. 20, 2004
A great loss - Monday, Oct. 20, 2003
a terrible announcement. - Tuesday, Sept. 09, 2003
Chrome speaks: - Friday, Sept. 05, 2003