Sunday, June 14, 2009


One boy.


Slightly crazy like me.

Looking for meaning in life.

Not afraid to suffer a little bit.

Must be able to relocate to anywhere.

Musicians are appreciated. (it's a good way to make money when no one is hiring).

If you're ready to throw of societies shackles and join me for a quest of self-discovery and adventure, apply within.

My craigslist-classified ad.

Like it?

I'm not really posting it. It was amusing to make.

Back to normal blogging.

Went out to sailfest yesterday. It was a great party. Spent two and a half hours in traffic getting there (normally a 20 minute drive). I guess a Fed Ex truck was hit and it was carrying ammo so it burned up. It wasn't all bad though. Some cuties pulled in behind me when traffic moved a little. There were three of them. Crazy boys. Then there was a boy in a truck. Really cute.

Got to the lake. Had dinner. Then the band started playing. It was a band called Zion Tribe. They were really good actually. I think everyone had recovered from their hangovers from the revelry the night before (sailfest is a weekend ordeal) and were all boozed up again. I guess my dad looks like Tom Selleck from Magnum P.I.

He kind of does actually.

Well my dad is pretty well known out there at the lake. My favorites of my dad's friends are these two crazy people, Stephanie and her husband Dave. I guess their nephew is a racer of some sort and made it into to reknown race. So Dave, who was well drunk already (he always seems like he is though) hands a bottle of wine around to everyone in a celebratory drink. The bottle gets to me. A little swig. Then later, Stephanie, who owns the boat we raced the 80 miler on, wanted to toast to our victory. I didn't have a drink. So she poured a glass of Champagne. Mind you my parents are sitting right there still. Toast. A glass of Champagne down. Finally I get out on the dancefloor. Dragged there by my dad's friend Wendy, who offers me a sip of her Vodka Martini. I've learned not to argue with people when bearing gifts... hehe. A sip of that, down the hatch. Dance for the rest of time the band is there. My mom is introducing me to everyone, which got old. My dad is running around getting people to chug beers with him and scamming people out of money if he can. (he got a quarter for guessing that it was Washington on it) Band left. Things settle down. Midnight rolls around. I drive home. I wasn't anywhere near buzzed so don't you worry. Got home, talked to Dan for a while, HI DAN!!!, go to bed.

How fun.

I really want to get out more now. I need to be a teenager. I just don't know how to start...

Work tomorrow at 9:00 am. Joy.

Oh and people, EMAIL ME! I love getting emails and such. I get estatic when I get it. Same for snail mail, but it's never anything other than advertisments or credit card offers...




  1. I'll respond to your email when I get back (see blog) also I've come back onto MSN nd I've added you so probs chat soon although I'm not on that often.
    Hugs nd Kisses.

  2. "I need to be a teenager..."

    GO FOR IT.... enjoy every possible moment while you are one...


  3. matt

    hey i love drunkin sail fest type parties lol

    i love also that the biggest sponsor of them on the east coast in Mount Gay rum lol

    hope all is well


  4. are all those requirements mandatory, or are some of them optional? lol

    oh yeah, does humming count as being a musician?