Have you ever noticed...no one ever asks the most important questions?

Saturday Night is the best Misfits songs ever.

It's the best 50's song not written in the 50's.

I (temporarily) ruined my voice trying to be Michale Graves. It's that good.

Something those that don't sing can't understand.

You can unconsciously fuck up your voice. I've strained my vocal chords while asleep.
The subconscious is a powerful thing.

Currently feeling weird and throaty after a particularly strong rendition of The Misfits - Saturday Night. I knew it was too high and I went for it anyways.

This shit sucks.

So much work shit I haven't posted about.

Alex got a job as a cop. Basically. He'll be working at the Cherokee county jail (where ever that is) for the next year then he's "Deputy Knapp". Queue all your "keep your back against the wall" jokes. But his last day was Friday.

Thus opens an hours vacuum at work, and my full time. My boss Tom is 100% behind me getting it, which fucking rocks. It's basically stalled with red tape at this point but it is imminently happening. The timing couldn't be better.

Had a very cryptic talk with Tom about it today. He called me into the office to help me set up my account with the stock computer. "What will I be doing with this?" I asked. "Oh, we're gonna be teaching you a few new things" Tom said. Hmm. We ran into trouble when we couldn't figure out the password, haha. But still. It's a big sign of something, but what? It's very reminiscent of Blockbuster Denver and my fast track to management that I was somehow on and no one ever told me about. To me I'm just this slightly weird dude but to them they always see something in me that wants them to yell promote! I don't get it but it does rock.

Left a little trash on the porch to take out someday.

Make that tomorrow, scumbag.

Had a fuckin' possum rooting through it.

Lucky Brendan he didn't make a mess, but getting him to go away was a chore that took a baseball bat and a broom. I'd never hurt an animal unless I had to, but that little bastard didn't want to get out of that corner. Did get rid of him finally.

Big Daddy recommended that encourage him to return and name him Smitty. I like this advice.

Wish I'd taken a pic.

I realized a long time ago that my inability to write was killing me.

I've written two songs in six years.

I used to do an album a month.

It's like a part of me died.

Those two songs were both about Shannon. She killed that part of me with the fake imperfection.

I also realized that the last song I wrote, SLAM KING's "GB", was basically a suicide note. I wrote it as a goodbye to her, but, it's so fucking obvious it's me saying goodbye to the world.

In a way that's lovely but I was just answering negativity with negativity. I wasn't directing the hate out, I was channeling it back in.

When I think of this in terms of my recent panic attacks, a light bulb went off.

The longer I hold onto this dusty shit, the worse I feel. I'm killing myself for nothing and dragging everyone around me down with. It's the definition of bullshit and I've decided to stop.

Just have to be strong and take it one day at a time.

this just in...

fuck you shannon

fuck you

i'm done

been done

i've decided to stop letting you ruin my life

you've ruined other people's lives

you're shit

you're nothing

fuck you

If you need to get me quick, cheap gift, there are now fake mustaches available in a vending machine at my store's exit. Only fifty cents!

EVERYTHING has changed.

I think I rediscovered my muse in a different body but the same bullshit applies I sort of suspect it will never be anything but negative.

This, going on less than a week of me and two days of fuck me.

Everyone says slow down but I'm at the speed of light baby and prepare that brick wall.

Oh I have my own place and divorce is pretty much final. Talking every day is already out the window and....fuck, I need some reality.

It's like bad Denver on PCP.

29 this week already cut to 27.5. Damage.

Off rest of the week cept for a reset. Not looking forward to it, much less with Frosty in tow.

The other night I updated him on my situation and he of course said, "hey if you need a roommate..." I mentally puked and walked away.

19 powerful hours next week. Shit sucks. I got the most hours of the part time crowd, but wow, no way I can do this as pt. No way. Something has to change.