Dilla Milla's Blog

O' Where Have Thy Been...?

2007-11-13T05:33:22Z

     Okay. Seriously. Where the fuck have I been?   Wow, let me just inform you how much my life has shifted over the past months. It is quite, literally unbelievable. From materialistic events to emotionally satisfying ones….I got a new truck, I have become so involved in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu I could actually see me teaching it, my Kitty Baby died ☹, and as for the love life….I think I might just have it down. I am happy. Captain and I are on rough terms, Sara Dennis and I are on rough terms, I do not talk really to all my Hobbs’ friends anymore, even though that is not on my own volition—it brings the livid drama of Hobbs to Lubbock. I no longer work, besides the Army that is…

    LiveJournal is my Meth. Life is my money. I used to abuse the shit out of it.

    I’m glad I relapsed.

"Did you miss me baby?"

2007-07-23T15:08:24Z

I'm HOME!!!!!! New Apartment, New Furniture, and a New Vehicle on the way! Off to the gym. I'll post later bitches!

Bleeding Rectum Taste Like Logan's Roadhouse's Steaks

2007-05-01T20:59:05Z

    So, the plan originally was to wake up this morning, go to pt, come home, study for my math analysis exam, go to what-a-mother-fucking-burger for breakfast, and arrive promptly to class at nine. Negative. Yeah, so that did not happen. However, to my surprise, I did have time to study....while waiting for twenty minutes in the fucking drive-thru. Are you serious, twenty minutes? Yeah, that pretty much eliminates the need to designate what-a-piece-of-shit-burger as fast food. If I wanted to go to IHOP, I would have.

    T left for Air Assault today....I really need to pass that run to go next time gauh....that was my spot....it angers me to some extent, but however, I hope he does good and gets his wings. Sling-loading artillery and humvees to helicopters as well as repelling out of them is some hard shit. It is one of the hardest courses in the Army. He will be alright though, I got faith in my nigga.

    My dad has two funerals this week! I feel bad for him; he is too happy of a person for that shit.

    Leadership Training Course this summer; wow, I'm stoked!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

    So, I had only one absence in my Math Analysis class. If you have more than two you have to take the final. I have to take the final. The conversation went as follows, "Do I have to take the final since I have only been absence once?" "Yes, you were late twice and tardies count." "Fucking Bitch." Well, actually I did not say the last quote, but that is what shot through my head.

Barf.

"Deuces..."

2007-04-30T05:09:43Z

    You know, life is such a funny little thing, quaint in my dreams, but oh so difficult in reality.

    I noticed a soldier from Midland died on the twenty-second. Ray Bevel was his name. I viewed his myspace with a deepening truth of how war rests itself in every corner of this nation. The comments on his page rang ever so loudly for me, another bell tolls. I saw on some of his friends’ pages comments he left a couple days before died, “Hey man well the number is at 12 right now man [Speaking of Improvised Explosive Devices, IED hits his company has taken], but the only number is the one they took from our plattoon on the 14th, an that shit hit me hard homie, i was right behind him when it blew him up and it also made me deaf in my left ear man. well holla back man. deuces.” The old saying, “One minute you’re here, the next, you’re not” stagnates truthfully. He used to come over to Hobbs fairly often, Bretlye and Kayla both knew him. It made me think, “When will be my time?” “Will I die when I go oversees for my Army, my Country, my Family, my God?” Ah, these questions make me smile because of the anonymity of their answers. It proves favorable to question.

    James Marsh in his mid-fifties died Saturday in his home, in his living room chair, right after concluding lunch with his mother, Ruth, and sister, Anita.

    Jim as we knew him was a good man. Over the years, his wife cheated on him and he divorced her, his kids stopped talking to him years ago, and he lived alone, I feel as though we were his only family. I know he was apart of ours. Ironically, Jim died on Saturday, the day I usually saw him on and we would speak for hours on many subjects. Those conversations are to never be had again. His mother outlived him as well as two husbands. He was a CPA who did our whole family’s taxes in addition to my father’s business’s taxes….he is gone, he died alone, and then again the question arises of what purpose did he exist for? What world changing moment was his? Was there any? Are we supposed to have one? Jim is gone, Dale is gone, George is gone, Ruth and Anita are left….after that, they too will be gone; gone as my parents will be and some day, me.

    I heard the news Saturday night after our Army/Air Force Military Ball. I watched as seniors had their final Mil-Ball as Cadets, soon to be Second Lieutenants. Somber, yet Inspiring.

    I had a blast at the Ball. Though, I was not 21, most people were, so Koch got me a couple Coors Lights. After the Ball, we partied at T-Bone’s house with a couple margarita machines and Captain was there along with Amour Captain Martin with his wife. After that, we went to Dieter’s house where every person in the Army was there. It made me look at them knowing that this was possibly the last time that we were all going to be together, well for the seniors at least. Time sure brings changes. George came into town last week and we had dinner at Joe’s Crab Shack, it was good to see family. Aging family, but still mine.

    Well, as for me, I’m continuing on. I’m registered for classes for Tech in the fall, still working at Logan’s Roadhouse as a waiter, just got promoted to yellow belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, leaving for Fort Knox on June 16th and graduating July 13th. Hopefully, I will be going to Air Assault after that since Tahilramani took my spot, he leaves tomorrow.

    I will be going home for the funeral; it will be good to go home.

    I miss writing. Not like this. But my detailed, thoughtful writing. Maybe I will write again.

“Deuces.”

Global Warming is the Shit...

2007-03-29T03:49:12Z

Oh you fucking piece of shit journal, how I have missed you.

Going on a Joint Field Training Exercise (JFTX) this weekend at Ft. Sill, Ok. Should be fun...been promised helicopter ride, time at the range, rappelling, officer leadership course.

Went to extreme biking class with melissa yesterday, holy fuck it was tough. Black lights, loud music, screaming instructor...i liked it.

Before hand, I had worked out for an hour, then after biking, I went to brazlilian jiu jitsu for two hours...earlier in the day I had gotten up at 5:00 and ran sprints with the army....gauh

Yay! A hail storm is coming.....my roommate just told me and we just moved our cars under covered parking.....not like my car is anything special, but for the next hour or so it should be okay.....fuck....hope it doesn't get towed

I finally got my master's stripes in jiu jitsu...im getting ready to move up a belt.....yeah baby.....

I really wanna see that movie 300....they went last night but i got out of bjj too late......grrrrrrrr

fuck, i have so much to say....too tired...promised update soon nigga

Damn she gives good head

Suck it baby! Suck it!

Don't give me butter....and I miss my Kitty Baby!!!!!

The wind blows....Death's Duell

2007-02-28T21:51:43Z

    The wind blows. Haha, get it? Man, I am about fucking tired of this weather. This is the second time that my apartment has been swarmed and invaded by tiny particles of fine red sand. Considering my apartment is opened on most sides by large fields, when the wind here in “great” West Texas starts to blow, this shit seeps into every pore and crevice. I have tile by my front door, which transitioned from bright white to dark crimson. I leave footsteps in my own carpet. Goddamnit.

Let me tell you about my day yesterday:

5:00 a.m. Woke and went to What-A-Burger and ate breakfast on my way to Tech.
6:00 a.m. Began working out with the U.S. Army.
6:30 a.m. Ran all 13 flights of stairs in the B.A. building….three times.
7:15 a.m. Returned to my apartment and showered.
9:00 a.m. Went to my Math Analysis class.
10:15 a.m. Left class and throat began to itch.
10:30 a.m. Tanned.
10:45 a.m. Ate at George’s Restaurant.
11:05 a.m. Went to Wal-Mart.
11:35 a.m. Returned home and started laundry.
12:00 p.m. Throat really starting to burn; took some Vitamin C.
1:30 p.m. Extremely tired and my throat killing me.
3:00 p.m. Called in sick for work.
6:30 p.m. Woke from nap, went and got medicine.
7:30 p.m. Watch the movie The Departed (great movie)
12:00 a.m. Went to sleep with the help of some Ambien.

    Quote from a guy at work last week: “You better start taking some multi-vitamins because Strep Throat has started here at work. Once one person gets it; we all get it.”

    Guess what the fuck I have!!! I went last night and bought medicine. After consulting with several people, I found that they thought it would be best if I went to the doctor as soon as possible. Seeing as how they started off with a sore throat and then it progressed to Strep. I contacted the Student Wellness Center at Texas Tech University this morning, and not to my surprise, they could not get me in until tomorrow. Well, I knew Covenant had a walk-in clinic down on South Quaker and the Loop, so I thought I would go down there as well as stop and eat at the more decent IHOP than the one on University. I arrived at the clinic at 10:30. I considered and planned for a short wait, but not Two-Fuck-Hours. I need to find a doc here, seriously.

    The medicine that they gave me as the pharmacy stated, “Since you are allergic to Penicillin, there is a 5% chance you may have a reaction to this medication. If so, and you cannot breath, take a Bendaryl and call 911.” Oh yeah, that is real comforting.

    I guess since I have neglected to update lately, this would be a good time to inform you that I have taken up Brazilian Jiu Jitsu. Yes, BJJ, I know. Some of the guys in ROTC are in Klay Pittman’s Academy and since this is a referral-only based school, I quickly became referred. I tried my first lesson the Thursday before last, and then signed up and paid my hefty fee. I came in on Saturday and sparred a little with some of the guys, went in on Monday for class and then sparred, Wednesday I went in for class and one of the instructors asked me to stay for the extension, which is add-on to the basic class with more advanced techniques. It teaches the reverse of what was learned in that particular class on that day. So, after that, my instructor Mr. Poole who is a brown belt, asked me to meet with him on Saturday to discuss moving up into the Masters Club. This is a more driven, in-depth, advanced class that has more classes and requires considerable commitment. Saturday, I went up to there after just waking up, I did not bring my Gi or anything. After talking with Mr. Poole, who I believe is twenty years old, I joined the Masters Club and to my surprise, I had my first advance class thereafter (I had to borrow a Gi). I have already learned so much from this Academy and it seems that this is my calling. I have progressed rapidly. Klay Pittman has trained under Carlos Machado who is a cousin to the Gracie Family (leaders and designers of Brazilian Jiu Jitsu). The style is not like Tae Kwon Do or Karate, where you essentially punch and kick, but it is more on the subject of the street fighting (4 months a year we fight with no-gi to adapt to everyday opponents). If you get into a fight, one of you will basically end up on the ground. BJJ focuses on ground fighting as well as leading aspects to grappling from the standing position. I’m becoming addicted.

    This weekend I am supposed to leave with the Army on Friday for a FTX (Field Training Exercise) out at Macy’s Ranch, which is about forty-five minutes away from Lubbock. This is going to last all weekend, involve carrying a fully loaded 35-pound “ruck” sack, paintball guns, and ammo for many tactical maneuvers over the weekend. Sleeping in sleeping-bags with no tents, no shower for a few days, and lots of sweat, it sure sounds like a lot of fun. Fuck, I need to get better!

    Sa Cal’s birthday is this weekend and she is having a huge party Friday that I am going to miss if I go with the Army. I asked her if she wanted me to take her out to eat tonight, but her parents are coming into town.

    I have no time to myself, if I’m not in class then I’m at work, if I’m not at work then I’m with the Army, if I’m not with the Army then I’m at Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, if I’m not a BJJ then I’m doing homework, at the gym, cleaning house, running errands, or sleeping. I even have to schedule how much sleep I get now….SHIT!!!!

See what alcohol does to you, gross.

Dead Baby

2007-02-14T21:41:16Z

So, after a heavily fortified wall of research to stand behind, I must unequivocally refute my previous entry from February 11, 2007. In the notion of me fantasizing with a job at Blackwater, I regret the statement. One must realize that I had not conducted a full investigation into the company, only to later be shocked while sitting in my room for five hours listening to the House of Representatives Committee on Oversight and Government Reform, Hearing on Reliance on Private Military Contractors in Iraq Reconstruction. It genuinely made me sick to my stomach and head to hear what this multi-subcontracted company did to these families. If one listens to all five hours, it becomes excruciatingly obvious that Blackwater prevailed with numerous fallacies.

This is from C-Span; just search for it on their website to see the video.
House Hearing on Iraq Reconstruction & Contractors
The House Oversight and Government Reform Committee held a hearing on waste, fraud, and abuse of taxpayer dollars in Iraq, focusing on the use of private military contractors. Family members of four Blackwater employees killed in Fallujah testified about what they view as profiteering by Blackwater USA, including the company’s alleged failure to provide armored vehicles and other critical safety equipment. The committee also examined Blackwater’s security operations in Iraq and multiple layers of contracts and subcontracts that compound costs to the taxpayer.
2/7/2007: WASHINGTON, DC: 5 hr. 3 min

Yeah, youtube was too big of a pussy to put this on their website.

Yesterday after listening to that testimony for five hours and wasting my entire day (time I do not have to waste), I had to run to trashy Wal-Mart before work. Well, as I took the trash and a couple of boxes to the large dumpster downstairs, my shopping list blew into the trashcan. Yes, I looked like a homeless person while actually climbing into the fucking dumpster. Then, after placing my items in the backseat of my car, my milk slid down behind my seat. After returning home, I came to the complete and utter realization that my milk jug was smashed and leaking everywhere. I was entirely to pissed off regarding the situation and left the milk in the parking lot. :)

Oh, I was issued the brand spaking new ACU by the army. These do not have to be ironed, the boots do not have to be shined, and they are as comfortable as wearing pajamas. Off to class!

...

2007-02-13T04:52:35Z

Okay, How Many Times Do I Have To Say It???

Obama is Osama

So, let me get this straight; his name is [Barack Hussein Obama]. Are you kidding me? Really, doesn't that sound like Osama? Wait, who was that guy that we took over his country and then had him killed? I mean his peoples' court had him killed?? Wasn't it Saddam Hussein? Uhhhhhh, people are you not seeing what I'm seeing here!?

Obama = Osama Hussein = Hussein!!! He is the anti-christ terrorist! Damn them Al-Qaida are smart...

(Ahhhhh! Get the terrorist away from Terri Schiavo's brother!)

Found this moderately amusing:

Conclusion...

2007-01-13T21:17:49Z

Me not = Mr. Darcy

Incest. Gross…

2006-11-15T06:50:21Z

Credit to:
-Sean for the love circle acknowledgement
-Me for the diagram idea

Long Time, No Post.....

2006-11-15T06:20:41Z

Well Besides Yesterday....

So, today as I was walking across campus, and I nearly got blindsided by a tumbleweed traveling, oh I’d say about a good thirty-five miles per hour. Damn, don't you just love New Mexico?

Referring to my post from October 29, 2006, thank you yet again to the City of Lubbock for giving out all my personal information. Great, now I have to worry about credit checks, stolen identity, and my social security that is going to collapse before I can cash-in on it. Fucking Lubbock.

So, Friday I went on a NMJC field trip with some FREAKS to the Mosaic Potash Mine, Shaft Number 5 outside of Carlsbad. I must say it was badass, interesting, and a hell of a lot of fun! There is over 3800 miles of mined tunneling in their facility alone, which is not including the numerous other mining companies in the area. A perfect 74 degrees underground makes the atmosphere almost ideal to work in, it is safe underground, and the wages are extremely high. Starting pay for an unskilled dumbass is $20.00 per hour. What really floored me was just how massive the underground network spreads; getting lost happens frequently. Here are some pictures:

(Shaft # 5 that took us down. Instead of using elevator controls, there is a man that sits in the building to the left that listens to manually sounded alarm bells. He corresponds the sounds that are made by the miners with movements of the elevator, kind of ingenious…)

(Entrance Sign)

(The other end of that shaft)

(One of the numerous working shops for mechanics)

(These bolts help to retain the back (roof) from converging downward due to the plasticity of the salt. Each bolt can hold approximately fifteen tons. The guide’s example was if you hold a piece of paper by its end, it just sags, but if you put a quite a few staples in a line from one end to the other, it retains its stiffness better. Same holds for the salt. Notice the stalactites as well.)

(This is one of the vehicles that escorted us around.)

(The front of a piece of mining equipment.)

So, I was cleaning out my center desk drawer and low and behold, look what I found….reminds me of Sean, Amanda, Roger, and that one coked-out girl. :)

“What did yall do tonight?” “Apparently we snorted some cocaine.” “Uhhh…”

After I returned from my field trip, I accompanied my father out to a local dairy to do an electrical inspection. Since I had my camera handy, here are some pictures:

(Notice the cleanliness and sanitation of where your milk comes from.)

(Nothing like fresh milk on the floor that gets pumped back into the tank through the drain!)

(Hey, I would stand in shit for $75.00 an hour too.)

(This reminds me of many girls I know.)

Being that I was late to class the other day, I was driving approximately 100 mph down Millen St. in the center, no-passing lane. I passed a car way back at the beginning of the road and by the time I got to class, there was no one behind me. So, stumbling to my car after my good hour and fifteen minute nap, I found a note on the windshield. It reads as follows:

I found this apparent death note exceedingly amusing and immediately wrote, “Hopefully” on the bottom of it. I was going to take some tape and post it to the light pole right in front of my car since I figured the person would most likely return to see if I had gotten it. As luck would have it, I did not have any tape; however, the person that wrote this left an imprint of their name from their previous page in their notebook! Payback is a bitch.

Fucking Lubbock Queers

2006-11-13T23:13:34Z

So, from what I hear, someone in Lubbock has been talking shit about me. Next time I see this person face to face, I will be sure to let them know how I feel and then beat the living fuck out of them. You know who you are, so keep my name out of your fucking mouth because if I hear one more thing from one more person, I will drive down there, come to your apartment and kick your ass. Seriously, you do not want to fuck with me.

Overcast...

2006-10-09T18:22:58Z

Today is the overcast of life. The true realization appears before my very eyes. In the quiet spaces in the corners of the world where human souls barley grace, the truth that we all seek lies within. It is here where perpetual soundness calms the rage that forms. It is here where solitude presses freedom. It is here where true life should perish, alone in innocence.

Ben Stein Speaks...

2006-10-04T05:09:31Z

I just got home from enjoying the Jack Maddox Distinguished Lecture Series featuring Ben Stein. I found it to be tremendously enthralling and agreed with him on almost every level. I think it is good that the Maddox Foundation offers these presentations to the public for free since most of the public in this area has hardly any interaction with outside culture or topics with intellect. I am glad I went.

About Ben Stein:

“Stein has had what may be the most diverse career of anyone now on the national scene. He is in every sense a Renaissance Man. He has been an award winning actor, economist, writer, journalist, and teacher. He is equally well known in Americas board rooms, dormitories, and frat houses.

Born in Washington D.C., Stein attended Montgomery Blair High School in Silver Spring, Maryland, where he studied alongside future luminaries such as Sylvester Stallone, Carl Bernstein, Goldie Hawn, and Connie Chung. He received a bachelors degree in economics from Columbia University, where he was active in the civil rights movement to secure voting and other legal rights for African-Americans. He graduated from Yale Law School in 1970 and was the valedictorian of his class, by election of his classmates.

After graduation, he served as a poverty lawyer, a trial lawyer, and a teacher at American University, University of California at Santa Cruz, and Pepperdine Univerity. He was a speech writer and lawyer for Presidents Richard Nixon and Gerald Ford.

He has been a columnist for The Wall Street Journal, Los Angeles Magazine, New York Magazine, E! Online, and has written a lengthy diary for ten years for The American Spectator. Stein is also known as a novelist, television sitcom writer, and movie script writer. He has written and published 17 books including seven novels about life in Los Angeles and nine non-fiction books about finance, ethical and social issues in finance, and the political and social content of mass culture. His titles include, A License to Steal: The Untold Story of Michael Milken and the Conspiracy to Bilk the Nation; The View From Sunset Boulevard; Hollywood Days, Hollywood Nights; DREEMZ, Financial Passges; and Ludes.

Steins role as the boring economics teacher in the movie Ferris Buellers Day Off was ranked as one of the 50 most famous scenes in American film. Stein appeared as a recurring character in the television shows Charles in Charge and The Wonder Years, and in 1997, he began hosting the long-running quiz show, Win Ben Steins Money. The show has won six Emmy awards and Stein has won one Emmy for Best Game Show Host.

His most recent book is the best-selling humor self help book, How To Ruin Your Life.

Stein lives with his wife and son in Beverly Hills, California.”

I signed my lease for my apartment in Lubbock. Move in date: 12/16/06, directly after finals.

I am happy.

"I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country. " --Nathan Hale

Ouch...

2006-09-11T00:37:32Z

So, the wisdom teeth are out! Now I feel stupid. Haha, get it? I know, lame. Luckily, I was born without the top two and only had to go through half the excruciating pain of removal.

I love my pain and sedative medication!!!!!! Love it!

See my stitches? They come out on Wednesday….damnit I’m tired, grrr…homework….sex….this Friday!

Three Months of Black....

2006-08-09T16:13:46Z

So, I just now got back from this modest haircutting business known as QuickCuts. When I walked in, there was no one there. The air was off. The radio was off. All sounds were off. It was quiet; the kind of quiet you only get a glimpse of every once and a while in public. From the back, out walked this dark-haired, Hispanic woman dressed in all black. Her hair was in curls, she was tall and thin with a look of despair on her face.

I said, “It’s quiet” to break the resilient silence and she replied with a calm, “yeah...” I uttered, “Are y’all busy today?” and she replied with the “No, not really.” I asserted that was kind of good. Then I asked if she was going to go to the fair and rodeo, she said no, then I asked if she had kids and if they wanted to go, and that is where it all turned. She replied, “It’s just too soon, my mother just passed away.” Her mother died last Sunday in Mexico. Following tradition, she told me that in her country when someone dies that they are supposed to wear black, not listen to music or watch tv for three months, and tie a black ribbon on their door for a symbol to the community. That explains the quietness. She told me it is hard to do that in this country, but she would try to do it for at least a month because she said, “I will do it because I know my mother would have done it for me.” The strange part about the situation was that her mother never knew that she had cancer and only two months to live. Her children never told her when they found out from the doctors; they did not want her to suffer in that pity.

When she died, she was still making plans to live. When word came to her daughter that her mother was on the verge of demise, she loaded up her family and drove at over a hundred miles an hour to Mexico. She told me it usually takes eleven to twelve hours to get there; she got there in seven. Long enough to go into the room, tell her mom, “I’m here, momma” and watch her pass away. She died approximately fifteen minutes after her daughter arrived.

I told her that it was good to have religion in these times as well as I asked her if she brought anything back with her from her mothers. She affirmed my thoughts with a necklace that she was wearing, it was a Catholic Saint, and even though she was not Catholic, she was Christian, that silver necklace was what her mother was wearing when she died. Also, one hundred and fifty dollars in long-standing American money, in a crumbling wallet, that her mother saved for emergencies was another possession she took. She will never spend that money.

Her funeral was on the following Tuesday. The one thing her mother wanted was a mariachi band to come and play at her funeral; they played nine mournful songs, one for each kid.

She nearly cried while cutting my hair in the midst of explaining how the cancer spread. Bizarrely uncanny how I chose to go get my hair cut this morning, how I was scheduled to work at twelve at the fair this one day instead of at eight o'clock, how she was the only girl working at QuickCuts today. I genuinely felt a connection with her, her sorrow, and her disposition. When I left, I said naively, “Get better.” I openly just wanted to hug her.

On my way home, my radio was off.

Back at Crabby Jack's....

2006-08-03T19:49:00Z

...But this time not working there.

So, on my funeral list, I forgot to put on it, “Up All Night” by the Counting Crows. Due to the remarkable wording of this song along with the choppiness that counteracts the music, I find it perfect.

So, I ordered like $120 worth of supplements off the internet and they came in yesterday, and now today I’m back at the gym. I haven’t been to the gym in several months; my body aches and utterly I love it. Pain means bigger, bigger means stronger, and stronger means money. Now, I know everyone is like how can stronger mean money; well, the more I can lift, run, and be physically fit, the better I will advance in ROTC in the spring or summer. ROTC pays for 100% of college tuition, $900 a semester for books, and a stipend around $450 a month just to live off of. In return, I will be starting out in the Army as a Second Lieutenant commanding a platoon, in either active, reserves, or National Guard for a minimum of two years. Two years in the National Guard, for $130,000 in college expenses; you cannot beat that!

Now should I play some old songs at my funeral because I have a high fancy for older music as well: Lynard Skynard, Neil Young, Graham Nash, Crosby, Stills, and Nash, ZZ Top, Foghat, REM, Pink Floyd, Led Zeppelin, The Rolling Stones, The Moody Blues, CCR, ELO, Bob Segar, Hendrix, The Eagles, Eric Clapton, Aerosmith, Bad Company, and so many more….tell me a song from these I should play!

Yeah, so, I guess I should go mow my neighbors grass. Fun times. Also, the fair and rodeo is next week. Even if I didn’t have to work it, even if I did not have a calendar or knew what day, month, and time it currently was, I would still know it was approaching because it has been raining all over Lea County. It always rains on the fair. Haha. Damn New Mexico, I wonder if old mexico was like this?

“I dare you to tell me to walk through fire.” -Shinedown

So, I just heard my dog barking and jumping on the backdoor, I just went back there on the patio and it is raining in a soft downpour, so much for mowing. I think I will just grab a bud light and sit on the back-porch and watch the heavens cry.

Good Ole Grandpa...

2006-07-31T21:14:08Z

Have I ever told you how much I admire my family, especially my grandfathers? I will talk about one of them today. My dad’s father, Alfred Miller, retired from the military after 20 some odd years, served in Vietnam as a red beret teaching the Vietnamese to fight back, came back to Texas, served as a deputy, a police officer, became chief of police, mayor, and now is an acting judge in Whitesboro, Tx. He is the hard-ass type of man that made his children shine his boots and have their haircut high and tight. An amusing story of his road to becoming the mayor occurred as follows:

My grandfather never wanted to be involved in politics; he was the war machine, the Rough Rider type from FDR’s administration until one afternoon called on his police duties. He was acting Chief of Police at the time, driving through a residential area when he noticed a door to a known neighbor’s house was wide open. Suspecting suspicion he went to the door and knocked, called, and asked for his friend. No one answered, so he made entry announcing his official presence with the police department, walked into the kitchen and found his friend slumped over in an apple pie. Still breathing, he radioed for help and saved the man’s life; his wife had tried to poison him. The city manger at the time hated my grandfather and by hated, I mean detested him with all accumulated hate anyone could have. There was enough loathing on part of the city manger that he wanted him fired, he asked the man who my grandfather saved his life to sue him for entering his house without permission; basically, he wanted to get him in enough trouble to either get him dismissed or make him resign. When my grandfather found this out, he in all his military, war-hawk style went to the city manager’s home and called him out on his front yard. He told the man that he was not going to kick the man’s ass even though he wanted too, but was on the other hand, going to run for mayor and fire him as his first act of business. So, my grandfather did just that, which ultimately forced the man out of the town. Mayor Miller, has a nice ring doesn’t it?

Now, I take after my grandfather in more than one way and I am damn proud of it, even my cocky attitude. Thanks grandpa. I intend on joining the military through college, Reserve Officer Training Corps (ROTC), becoming a Second Lieutenant in the Army, the Signal Corps to be exact. Also, I love law enforcement. I have two grandfathers in the army, one in law enforcement, an uncle who is a former LAPD, two other uncles who were in the Army as well. It is in my blood, even though the pay is not fantastic, I love doing it. Even though I graduated in the top 3 % of my 550 person graduating class, am well adept with computers, even certified, I cannot sit in an office all day long and do the same thing over and over. I need action. I need to be on the street. I need to have fun.

Capote...

2006-07-31T03:13:35Z

Did I ever tell you the first book I ever bought on my own free will was “In Cold Blood” by Capote? Now, today, I just finished watching the movie, “Capote” and all of the extra features. Bravo. Awesome. Nothing less than great. Netflix it.

Speaking of which, my junior year, AP English class, Mrs. Funk, first day: On a pinkish orange handout was a few paragraphs. She asked me to read them aloud to the class. I did. And, at the closing of it she asked, “Does anyone know where this is from?” I said, “‘In Cold Blood’ by Truman Capote.” We wrote a paper on it. I got an “A.” I was happy. These same few opening paragraphs are read in the movie. I am happy.

“Losing My Religion” by REM

There are many facets to writing: formal, simple, sarcastic, short, playful, long, dull, fiction, truth, great and poor etc. I like simple. It is unpretentious and seamless, absolute and broad, my kind of writing for the mood I am in now.

---Break

My excerpt from “Trees with Leaves.”

I put my nose up to the wooden fence, perfect height. The smell of pre-rain mist that drizzled down on top of that wood is life. In the simplest form of characterization, it is life. And truly, I am grateful to smell this here and now. Those that passed before us, those still waiting to go, may, could and will never know how precious those few seconds before the full downpour, smelling that fence, smelling life, what it is.

There will always be something, a figure unbeknownst to me in the smell of wood. Maybe because it is breathable life, smelling the living dead, no person could ever be that, and for my chance, not taken in vain, I am grateful.

---Break

Contemplating death in the recession of the mind is nothing more than horse-shit on the back of a shovel.

---Break

So, I was told today that my job could not even compare to the work of this gentleman’s life so far. He labors in the oilfield.

So I gently replied, “In my previous job, I had to wear overalls and climb through attics in the hundred and five degree weather. When I came back out of that opening, I was as wet as a swimming pool and five pounds lighter. Now, in my new job, I answered the phone this morning to hear a woman crying. For ten years, her husband has beaten her and now she has gotten a job. He believes that her job as a housewife is to stay home. So, he took a pan of hot grease from breakfast and threw it in her face, the pan hit her head, and she fell to the ground. He then pressed his foot against her face and shoved, forcing her to slide across the floor in the grease, all in front of their two, seven, and nine year old children.”

Now tell me I did not have a bad day. Did you have it worse?

---Break

Today, a lady at work jotted down the songs to be played at my funeral. We are a strange group over there.

Three that I thought of off-hand in order of the precession should follow as:

1. Run by Snow Patrol

-Because it is beautiful, sad, and everything a funeral should be.

2. The Bad Boys Theme Song from Cops

-Not the actual theme song from Inner Circle, but the one from the television with the “Innocent until proven guilty” because the other one is just too long. I love to make people laugh and smile; this will make everyone laugh one last time on my accord.

3. Friends in Low Places by Garth Brooks

-It has to be the live version with the extra verse because it is long and that is how I want my funeral to end, on a happy note.

Fucking Douches

2006-07-19T03:16:55Z

Those of you who read my minutely enthralling journal, keep up with my boring little life, and enjoy just the same ole sarcasm I say everyday; I appreciate you. But, it has come to my knowledge that the misuse of my information has become a gigantic problem. My entries have been taken out of context, construed, and made to look as if I were prude; nevertheless, I speak the truth, I speak my exact thoughts, and if you have a problem with that, deal with it. More people think discourteous ideas than me, I just prefer to write them down. So, with that in mind, I have set my lj to friends-only. Only my friends can indulge and enjoy my absurd outlook on life, and now I have a message for those who cryptically read my journal…

I find it hilarious, yet particularly sad that you must read my journal to obtain either gossip or to be so adamantly captivated with my life that you must want to be me. Wow, you must have nothing else in your life, I truly feel pity and sorrow for you, maybe you should seek certain psychotherapy. Or at the least, have a psychoanalysis and mental evaluation thoroughly performed on yourself to look for some awry social flaw or defect in your insignificant, dense brain. You must truly not have a life.

So, essentially, I am saying: if you want to read my journal, get one, tell me who you are, add me to your friends, write a few entries, or otherwise, FUCK OFF. What fucking losers you must be…

Added Note on Behalf of Judicial Inquiries

Oh, one more thing. If I get subpoenaed to court over anything I have written in my live journal, you better GOD-DAMN KNOW that I will turn on you in the court room and everything I saw will be reversed. Oh yeah, let me make a note that my journal is fiction and fiction only, I often lie and deceive to make a better story out of every conceivable situation. Do not make me get all lawyered-up either because if I do, I will have no hesitation to use my attorney, Barry Crutchfield, and fight the entire situation to the fullest lengths. Leave me the fuck alone. Case Closed.