Thursday can’t come soon enough.

     Right now, even tomorrow looks brilliant…

Tip: Randal Munroe

     Last night was rough.  I didn’t sleep well, thanks to a psychotic cat — an obnoxiously loud cat who constantly whines for food and will not shut up — who insisted that running about the place at full chase and jumping on me with all four sets of claws was a good idea.
     It so was not…

     When I did finally wake and venture into the land of the living, it truly seemed that everyone was in a bad mood.  Of the thirty-four people who I spoke to today, only four didn’t jump right in the middle of my ass.  Thus, I decided to ignore the outside world altogether, come home, write some music and catch up on some coding projects that I’ve been putting off for some time.
     After getting two sites completed — which were really tough, mind you — the thought crossed my mind that, “Computers are sometimes more forgiving than people.”  The third site was just midbogglingly complex.  It was simply too much for me to wrap my muddled head around today, so I quickly revised my theory.

     This weekend, I requested the observance of a new, annual Holiday on February 20th.  I really do hope that “Quit Trying to Make Mark Steel Have a Bad Day Day” is a success, because I’m under a lot of pressure right now.
     In addition to a lot of ridiculously extreme, external bullshit going on lately, last Friday marked the twelve year anniversay of the death of one of my best friends.  This Thursday, February 21st, marks the one year Anniversary of the death of another.
     I know for sure that if those two were still around, one of ‘em would be kicking some peoples’ asses for buggin’ me, and the other would be joining in, all the while laughing maniacally and inciting a veritable cornucopia of other could-be-ass-kickers to assist!
     Yes, I miss those crazy bitches.  I really do.  Unquestionably, they were crazy bitches.  And if you think they’d get offended at that, all you’d've had to do was ask them.  They’d laugh in your face. 

     So, yeah, you could say I’m a little introspective today, but it’s not sadness, per se.  On days like these, I tend to evaluate what’s important to me and what’s not.  Right now, there’s a single issue that’s important to me: Thursday night, my Wildcat and I are gonna be able to hold each other and relax.  The mere promise of that one, simple event keeps my spirits up.

     Tomorrow, though, I’m gonna observe “Quit Trying to Make Mark Steel Have a Bad Day Day,” with “Quit Trying to Make My Wildcat Have a Bad Day Day” running along side it.  And I hope the world celebrates “Quit Trying to Make Fill-In-Your-Name-Here Have a Bad Day Day” with us, too, because dammit, sometimes we all need a break!

     I think it’s a worthy, humanitarian cause.

     I mean, for fucksakes…

     Not to sound like Rodney King or nothin’, but…

     Can’t we all just get along?

     I mean, except for this friggin’ cat.

     I may strangle her just so I can get some sleep.

     But fortunately, Donnie Hoyle does.  Check out the First Four, the Fifth), and here’s Episode 6 of “You Suck at Photoshop.”

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lys2MxjzE94)

     Yeah, extended travel can hurt… Especially Uranus…

     Remember this one?

The patient says, “Doctor, it hurts when I do this.”

The doctor says, “Then don’t do that.”

     An old joke that we’ve all heard a billion times, and proof that Henny Youngman will never die.

     But seriously …

     When I try and deal with certain problems, it does nothing but create a Hell-storm.

     Yesterday, in order to try and move forward with my life, and hopefully help her to do the same, I dug around a little too much and actually managed to locate a woman who is, through some fault of her own and some fault of mine, making our lives a living Hell.  As usual, she just ripped me a new one, reminded me of every single thing I ever did wrong, and got me all worked up and depressed again.
     I honestly can’t handle it, can’t handle dealing with her at all, and simply haven’t since earlier last year.  That was probably the wrong thing to do on my part.
     For me, the pain caused by it all is one thing: I couldn’t keep the promises I made to her.  It was impossible, because by the end, I was so depressed, I just wanted to stop living.
     It’s been two years, trying to get the situation resolved and keep us out of each others’ hair forever.  Yet, every single attempt to do so has led to failure.  Every time I deal with her, it puts me right back there again, where I feel completely and totally hopeless.

     So Henny Youngman’s immortal joke comes to mind again…

The patient says, “Doctor, it hurts when I do this.”

The doctor says, “Then don’t do that.”

     But in the meantime, neither of us can move on until it gets resolved.

     I can’t deal with it any more.  She can’t deal with it any more.

     And if the two of us are honest, and truly think about everything we’ve lost, we should know that we don’t owe each other anything except:

     …to have the chance to go forward and move on.

     I swear, that’s all I wanna do, and I’ll wish her well, leave it and be done with it, because the hate and accusations and bullshit and ridiculous requests have been are too much to deal with.  Neither of us are happy, and we deserve little happiness.

     Maybe, after thinking about it, she’ll come around.

     I hope she does.

     Ya know, I’ve gone through my life trying to be conscientous, going out of my way to do things for other people, and trying to do the right thing.  Sure, like everyone else, I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and really screwed some things up — but I always tried to avoid doing things out of malice and anger.  Sometimes it could not be helped, and I picked myself up and carried on, made amends where they were possible, and really made an effort when I couldn’t.
     When an altercation happens, I try not embarrass or demean people who I care about — or cared about — further by talking a whole bunch of bullshit to everyone and their brother that I’ll have to go back and apologize for later.  Feelings get hurt too easily, and you embarrass yourself in the process if you’ve misrepresented the situation and had to go back on it.

     It is for that reason, and that reason alone, that I tend to keep a lot of the “specifics” of situations to myself.  And sure, I’ve screwed that up a few times, but all in all, I live my life simply, and with a clear conscience.

     And when it so happens that someone knows me pretty well, they’re able to manipulate that part of my character in order to make others believe that I’m some sort of Monster.  It takes a truly sick mind to use that sort of thing to say, “Oh, look, he’s not denying it!  I told you it was true!”
     And it takes a special sort of stupid to believe it, to blindly follow a tale which makes absolutely no sense, and is such a departure from the truth that it wouldn’t even be believable in a made-for-Lifetime-TV movie.

     I am not a Monster.  I have never done anything but try and help certain people, and nearly every time, it has turned out badly.  Other times, I have simply done nothing, which for some people is the absolutely worst thing I could have possibly done.
     But when someone wants to bitch and argue and start a whole bunch of crap, I usually tend to retreat and wait for it to blow over.  And, apparently, this a bad thing, too.

     I am probably going to start blogging about this crap, because it’s been a pain in my ass my entire life, and I’ve absolutely had it with the whole lot.

     And let there be no confusion from any self-victimized ‘tards with delusions of grandeur that I’m “screwing” with them all the time when I’m not: I’m not talking about any bloggers, wives, girlfriends, friends, employees or anyone else except except one very specific specific group.  I don’t care about that drama, because as hard of some of that stuff was to go through at the time, it doesn’t matter, it’s not my drama and I have no emotional attachment to it.  When it’s over, I walk away, done.

     No … I’m talking about Family.

     Two extremely large families, actually, with a literal cast of thousands.

     The ones that I share DNA with.  Or don’t, considering some of the stories.  *rolls eyes*

     It’s time to set the record straight once and for all.

     What started this?

     For the last three weeks, several of them have called me asking for my help.  They need my help and advice, or my expertise.  Nevermind that I’ve helped them my entire life, and been nothing but shit on for it in the absolute worst ways.
     They re-use their vicious lies.  Things that everyone knew was a lie twenty years ago suddenly come back into play as evidence of the new improved lie.  As a nasty little mob, they absolutely villify the object of their hatred with the most vile and disgusting slanders imaginable, never asking my side of the story and having no absolutely no regard for the verifiable truth of the situation.

     And now, after a full year of giving me the silent treatment and stabbing me in the back with their vicious lies, they call me for my help, advice and expertise?  Without so much as an apology?

     Yeah, I’m pissed, and when I calm down, I might change my mind about blogging anything more specific.  But right now, I have five instances in Draft where they’ve done some heinous crap, and a sixth which ties all five together into the biggest, steaming pile of poo I can think of — the kind of absolute bullshit that can ruin a person’s life.

     And I’m going to excercise the self-control they never had and keep it to myself until I calm down.

     But at the same time … this stuff’s been eating away at me for far too long.  They’ve tried to instill their spiteful, vengeful, righteous hatred into me my entire life, and I’ve resisted.  It’s taken a serious toll on me, both physically and mentally.
     I wear my heart on my sleeve.  Everyone around me can see when I get stressed and preoccupied — “Mark, what’s wrong?” and I’ve replied with “Ahhh, nothing….” or blown some stupid pet peeve out of proportion — and I’m honestly beggining to think that I’m losing the battle.

     Maybe it’s time to really set it straight once and for all … 

     …. with names, with witnesses …

     With Verifiable Proof…

     And what will they do when that God they claim to follow won’t help them?  Why should He keep them out of the mess they’ve made?

     Or am I supposed to sit here and do the right thing again and ignore it until the next time, when it will undoubtedly be worse?

     Mmhmm … Decisions, decisions.

     Maybe I should flip a coin…

     Maybe twice …

     Best two outta three …

     Hrm …

     Yeah, this might take a friggin’ book…

     And the funny thing is — I’ll be calm in an hour.

     …but I do need a vacation before indenturing myself into 9-5 servitude.  Wherever shall I go?

     Following up on the previous four lessons, Donnie takes us through yet another lesson in You Suck at Photoshop #5.

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x-8hQh6hdnI)

     Yeah, and I think we’ve been there at least once…

     As I said before, I don’t teach because the weight of my sarcasm may crush some heads.

     Fortunately, Donnie has continued to teach his “You Suck at Photoshop” course.  Here are all four in all their glory.

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_X5uR7VC4M)

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXeZ0s8DXZ0)

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MWn0lxRNqos)

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YNfBF2xvhaE)

     Not only did I laugh my ass off, I actually learned a couple of cool tricks.

     Although, I definitely know how to get rid of a cat better… Umm… Yeah, take that however you want, although, I hear that since I’m a blogger, I’m required to own at least one cat.  (I think not, unless the Wildcat counts… err, not that I own her… but I do at least have the privilege of her company)

      Be sure and check out MyDamnChannel for some other bizarre videos.

     One of the things I’ve noticed when reconnecting with so many people from my distant past is that, in many cases, there’s a damn good reason they were in the past to begin with.

     The mid- to late-80’s in Knoxville’s historic Old City were rife with what can only be termed as “Neo-Artsy-Gothic” kids hanging out and causing themselves no end of grief.  Actually, that movement didn’t really stop until around ‘94, and by that time a huge percentage of them — like 1 in 3 — had either killed themselves or ended up in jail.  Sometimes their crimes were violent, but they usually revolved around someone getting busted for selling drugs.  When that happened, all the little Wannabe Punks would all act like The Establishment was Keeping Them Down, but then turn right around and squeal like little pigs to the very Machine that they’d raged against before.
     Put simply … they were a bunch of Asshats.

     I used to try and take care of some of them, because I was a little more responsible.  I helped them find places to live, helped them get jobs, tried to keep them out of trouble with cops, and try to cope with whatever the Hell it was that was tormenting them so.
     Eventually, with the biggest majority of them, I realized that was a lost cause.  They wanted their lives to be tragic, and made every effort to bring on the tragedy.  The more grandiose and overly dramatic, the better!

     It’s weird to see a lot of them, now fifteen to twenty years later, and they’re exactly the same.  They somehow have jobs, more money, and they’re still every bit as tragic. 

     I met two of them today at a job interview.  Yep … a couple of wannabe punks who emulated Morrissey and Peter Murphy back then, and they haven’t changed much.  Their attitudes still suck, their social skills haven’t improved, and they’re still wankers.  Forty-somethings, never married, still popping pills, cutting on themselves, getting tattoos, getting arrested every other month because they never learned to shut the Hell up and try being nice to people for a change.

     As I walked out after the interview — which they thought was impressive, and I fit the job perfectly — I heard them talking to one another as I scheduled another interview with the receptionist.
     “Man, he was so much cooler when he had long hair!” said Peter Murphy.
     “Yeah, he’s like all responsible and shit, and apparently has been for a long time.  F$#* him!” replied Morrissey.

     Big difference in me now and then.  I’m nice to people, and a lot of good comes of it.  I tried to be nice to people back then, too, but in all honestly, people didn’t take to it well for various reasons.  I didn’t realize there were many nice people in Knoxville until I cut off the hair…

     And … Back then, I was a lot higher strung that I am now.  I kicked those guys’ sorry asses — on multiple occasions — for looking at me sideways.

     And, somehow, those losers thought that was cool… *shakes head*

     I could have turned and said, “Yeah, ya know what the difference is between you guys then and now?  You used to try and emulate semi-cool, somewhat artistic people.  Now you’re just a couple of washed-up, middle-aged Asshats.”
     Instead, I walked out laughing…  Especially when it hit me that since they’re in their forties and still acting like that, they more likely resemble a couple of Chris Crockers.

     But I have to wonder how on earth Asshats like that could possibly be of any value to their company… They certainly didn’t know anything about what they were interviewing me for…

I make my rounds down  at Blogger’s Landing on a daily basis. 

Here you’ll find all kinds of people.  You find folks who rant and rave, folks who have public service announcements, folks reflecting on life… you name it you’ll find it.  

I recently saw something that has been bugging the piss out of me.  I’m not going to make a daily stop at a particular page anymore because it is a major buzz kill to my joy and happiness factor.  And God knows, I don’t need anybody kicking me out of joy and happiness.  I won’t name any names, that wouldn’t be right.

This is just a public service announcement so that folks will realize that a blog that is used as a platform for a non-stop personal vendetta is extremely boring.

I’m not the victim of the below bunch of bullshit.  I’m not even sure I know who the victim of this blogger is, but I know for a long, long time this has been going on and frankly I’m bored as a monkey with no fucking trees to swing from with it all.  I don’t think I’ll be passing by her blog for tea and crumpets again because her style of writing makes me sad.

It’s a mean nasty person who is constantly stirring up crap with an people by constantly picking old wounds to keep them open.

I totally understand the occassional happening with an ex and it being something interesting or even just something a sister needs to vent about. Or a past ghost comes up and bites a brother in the ass…. makes for interesting reading and is perfectly acceptable. 

But, when someone makes it part of their daily routine to check up on and often write crap about someone, it’s sad.  These kind of people need to get a life.  A real life, not fantasy world. 

Whether whatever happened was right or wrong on either side, enough is enough.  The slamming of another person and constant degradation is boring to say the least.  I don’t think the person I’m referring to bothers to check my shit out, but if they do, I hope they are not infatuated enough with themselves not to realize this is a wake up call.  Knock it off. 

Get a fucking life, or not.  I don’t care either way. I’m a big girl and I can just stay away from your blogs.

     I’ve known some amazingly nutty women, but this news story made me realize I’m not alone.

Police say that on June 14, the woman put Visine in the 32-year-old male friend’s drink without his consent, causing him to suffer vomiting, rectal bleeding and difficulty breathing…

On July 6, police said, the woman, using a metal cane, encouraged a large pit bull to attack the man’s Chihuahua, killing it.

…

Police … charged her with second-degree assault and third-degree criminal mischief.

     I can’t help but wonder what the relationship was between this woman and the object of her fury, as I’ve had the same sort of thing happen by a couple of women I was never even with.

     Sometimes, however, I’ve had some pretty frightening post-relationship encounters with ex-girlfriends, too.  Those sorts of blow-ups usually result in my racking my brain trying to figure out what I did to deserve it.
     Fortunately, this video clarified the issue, and now I know exactly where I went wrong:

(Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fUGKtXz2fCM)