I'm Abacus The Magician

Right. Rome is a splendid city with an energy I can appreciate. I had a blast. I went with my friends Paul and his wife and four children. They are Mormon, so it was difficult to do everything I wanted to do. I went with them to Prague on my trip there and we had a good time and I had a good time in Rome, but they could have been better.
Don't get me wrong. I did some seriously messed up shit in Rome. But I was accosted by damn near 5 billion women wanting to fuck. Alas, I could not due to the heavy Mormon influence on my trip, so no boning in Rome for Yossarian.
I got thrown out of the Coliseum because I hoped a fence and stood on the floor and I tried to get all the tourists to chant my name. I'm not sure which part of that is the big problem.
I scaled another fence and had my picture taken stand with a bunch of ruins. That almost landed me in jail.
I bought a fake Rolex, which doesn't work and that seemed to be perfectly acceptable.
I found a pair of sunglasses that look good on me so I bought them.
I got eye fucked every 12 seconds. I was given numbers out of the blue and could have straight run shit like the mob had I been with competent wingmen.
I did a pull up in the Coliseum.
I did a pull up in the Vatican.
I filmed the tomb of Pope John Paul II when I wasn't supposed to and got yelled at in the Vatican.
I bought a pair of boots.
I filmed, and made no effort to keep it a secret, the Sistine Chapel when I wasn’t supposed to and have on film some dude threatening me to break my video camera.
I ran around the streets of Rome in the Morning and ran a 5:12 mile.
I ran on the track of the Circus where they had the Chariot races.
I saw the most amazing works of art in the world.
I got some sort of virus from drinking water there and shit water for close to 6 hours straight when I got home. I convulsed and vomited and slept in my bathroom. It was almost like being real drunk without being real drunk.
All in all, Rome was a smashing success and I was impressed with everything from the Spanish steps to this kick ass fountain. Everything there was great and I had a good time. It sucked not being with my family on Christmas, but hopefully next Christmas I will be preparing to leave the Army and find some job I hate but that pays more.
I know everyone is wondering with great anticipation where I will go next. If I get my way, I will be in Afghanistan or Iraq in a month or so. If not I will make my way east. I'd like to see Transylvania, Moscow and Athens. If I go west I want to see Paris and hit up something in Spain. The last place I will see before my triumphant return to friends and family will be Dublin.
I hope you all had a nice Christmas and I just want you to know that I could have had so much Italian ass that it would boggle your mind. Those women are beautiful and dress fantastically.

You're Not Thinking Fourth Dimensionally

Right. There are only three types of people in the world, the poor, the wealthy and everyone in between. For one night though, we could be all three. For one night I could come over and we could eat fruit and smile at one another. We would laugh and try our best to get to know one another. Then what we both desired would manifest in our eyes.
We would sit on the sofa and drink enough to feel comfortable with the bad decisions we are about to make. Then God would step in and George Noory would come on the radio. We would refresh our drinks, turn the lights off and listen, speaking only to comment on the bumper music and to wonder the possibilities of truth during commercials.
George would continue on and on for what would seem like an eternity. The drinks would flow through us until we are surrounded by the warm aura and liberating sense of unselfconsciousness. George would continue on and we would listen and watch one another. I would watch you breath and your walk as you go to the kitchen to refill the drinks time after time. You would watch the veins in my hands and arms bulge as I move and watch me walk as I go to use your bathroom time after time.
The night would pass and George would continue on as I apologize for the stain on your new sofa. The stain of Gin is a lot easier to explain than the stain that would be there had George not come on the radio, so you would forgive. I would offer to pay to have it cleaned and you would pull me toward you with a drunken tug and whisper to me to forget about it. I would want to kiss you and you would have wanted it more, but I wouldn't because George would have just said something scary.
We would continue to drink and George would carry on. The sun would come up and the call in part of the show would start and we would tune out the questions only to listen to the sound of the other one being as nervous as the other is. I would be extremely careful with my drink because I wouldn't want to ruin anything else you own. You would fight off a smile every time you caught me doing so.
The sunrise would complete and George would sign off and I would put my jacket on and thank you for the evening. As I got to your door you would gently grab me and turn me around. That seemingly small event would start a five day kiss that would create as much sweat as it would noise.
I wouldn't have to pretend you are Maria Bello.
I'd be okay if you pretended I was Johnny Knoxville.
Merry Christmas.

Eternal Flame

Right. I hate student loans. Chiefly because I will never be able to pay them off, but mostly because: why didn't I think of that. "Oh you want to go to school and try to make something of yourself? Sure I'll pay, and you just forget that for the rest of your life you will pay me a trillion dollars a month and if the dollar loses enough of its value, I'll make you pay in Euros." Genius. What a sodding scam.
If I ran shit, all banks would have their debt wiped out via the cost of the Iraq war and we could all go back to zero. Start now mother fucker. But if I ran shit Iraq would have lasted close to 17 seconds and the most costly part of the war would have been the massive quantities of salt I would have shipped there so we could salt the earth so nothing would grow there for another thousand years. Iran would be a nice piece of glass and Syria would be the permanent bonfire for hot dog cookout for the children of the world. That's just me though. It's how I roll.
At the Christmas party I mentioned the other day, the gift I received was a Santa Clause nutcracker. It's real and it's German and it's the primary means by which I handle all communications in person these days. Oh, Staff Sergeant has his 13 billionth dumb question of the hour? No big deal. I just grab ol' Santa and move the lever in his back and in the highest voice I can muster say, "Great you git. And for Christmas I will get you a fully functioning brain so you can solve your own bleeding problems. Ho Ho Ho. Or would you like a dick in a box?" Thusly, my plan to be left alone for 10 minutes hasn't worked. People mostly think I’m just being funny.
If I were any funnier I might die.
I think that the gift I bought for the Christmas party and my consequent actions with my gift are the two greatest things I will ever have done with the entirety of my life. Seriously. When I stand before God and he asks what of my life I am most proud of, I will respond with my top 5 list. My top 5 list:
5 – Buy my car.
4 – Listen to Pat Benatar
3 – Sleep
2 – Drink with unkind and cocaine
1 – The 4/2 SCR 2006 Christmas party and its aftermath with wooden Santa
We are going to deploy here shortly. And even though this shit costs too much and I can't afford my student loan repayment on account of the shitty money I make, I am very excited about going. I am looking forward to it like I look forward to leaving the Army. I know it looks like I'm all over the place, but whatever. I want to go to war and then I want to go home and spend time with my parents. Maybe go to Church. Maybe eat a nice chicken salad sandwich. Maybe start smoking again. Maybe drink a whole lot more. Maybe get a job I hate but one that pays me enough to afford a couple goofy pieces of paper I once thought would open up some rungs on the ladder.
Did I mention I am going to Rome for Christmas? Well I am. It will rule. I leave on Christmas day. Do you know what it costs me to fly to Rome on Christmas day? 20 dollars. Do you know what it costs me to fly back? Nothing. Do you know what it costs me to stay in Rome? 200 dollars. Did I tell you that my hotel is 75 meters from the Coliseum? Well it is.
I made a change. I know it's shocking because if you know me you know I hate change. But I had to. I quit dipping Copenhagen. I know. I know. I'm done with it. No more. I've moved on to a whole new shit. I now chew Redman. 6th greatest thing I've ever done with my life.

The Following Events

Right. Lindsey Lohan is a fucking train-wreck and I cannot stop looking at her. I need a 12 step program to stop looking at her. I don't think 12 steps is enough. I need like a 12 woman smorgasbord to put a hurt on me the likes of which haven't been seen since antiquity to get her out of my mind.
Why don't we all learn what I learned today?
An appropriate thing to do is to accept the invitation to the Christmas party for the Squadron.
It isn't appropriate to not buy a gift until the last minute.
It is appropriate to buy a gag gift because the invitation clearly stated it was acceptable.
It isn't appropriate to wrap your present in plaid wrapping paper knowing the Lieutenant Colonel has a penchant for plaid.
It is appropriate to wear a pink shirt and tie to the party because it makes everyone uncomfortable because they think they are Alpha males.
It isn't appropriate to have your gag gift wrapped while wearing massive quantities of pink.
It is appropriate to place your gag gift on the gift table for anyone to choose during the gift exchange.
It isn't appropriate to sell your soul to the devil and make the Lieutenant Colonel pick your gift from the 50 gifts there.
It is appropriate to finish your drink to keep from laughing your balls off as he says he wants what is wrapped, not what anyone else has picked.
It isn't appropriate to laugh your ass off and fall out of your chair as the Lieutenant Colonel unwraps a pack of condoms, KY brand jelly and a wide screen DVD of Brokeback Mountain, thinking that is the best shit on the history of the planet.
It is appropriate to look around in wonderment and ponder why you happen to be the only one with a sense of humor in the fucking Army at that exact moment in time.

Watch this shit or we will no longer be friends.

Stand Up And Take A Look Around

Right. I now have Microsoft Office and it only took nearly 7,000 years to install. I miss my Mac. Fuck a PC. I am going to try to work this thing out which, if successful, will get me out of the Army with a quickness. Lord, or the volcano thing on the cover of the book Tom Cruise worships, please let this work.
Where is everyone I know?
Time Magazine can eat a dick. How is everyone going to be the person of the year? What kind of lazy, bush league, lack of trying are we pulling here? Is this the best we can do?
That dead hooker in England looks like ol' stabby.
Papasan, please take me home. Everybody, they want to go home. Instead, I'll take a rickshaw ride straight to hell. How's that sound? Either way, I'm very happy you came here. Please enjoy your stay.
I think that in order for this to end I must return to perfect isolation. I know in order to return to perfect isolation I must wait for this to end. Thus, I am fucked.
I saw a place today were a million good men were trampled down. I walked a path today where countless carried their misery with them. I knelt in a graveyard and spoke with thousands who also let their fathers down. I listened to one man speak about how he would guide me and how the suffering and sorrow were needed. This one man informed me that in order for every king to relinquish his crown, every soldier to disarm and for us all to realize the one true messiah is not ourselves, this pain must happen. This one man claimed the one true messiah would rescue us form ourselves. I looked out upon a field that screamed with the deaths of millions of men stretched over recorded history and asked who needs whom more. I should have saved my breath.
I have had time to think of these events today. As I write this, the moon is the only light illuminating my apartment and I think that if it is true that we need saving, perhaps it is the blood in my veins that needs saving. Perhaps the pain in my blood is the yearning to be helped. Perhaps my lifetime of decisions to make things better for others is in vain. Perhaps the same small heart pumped the same anemic blood through the veins of each man who died for whatever the cause of the year was.
Perhaps those men will welcome me when I die and we will wax poetic about each woman we each loved and never lived long enough to embrace.

Saying I Am

Right. I don't care who says what, Rocky Balboa looks like the bomb. I will watch it with or without you. Learn.
The great Athenians are not from Athens. The Liberal Democratic Party of Japan is neither liberal, democratic nor is it a party. My soup has corn in it.
Have you ever heard a woman pray a gentle prayer as the snow falls? Have you been privy the paper feel that skin can have after a long life? Would you believe that the warmest I have ever felt is standing in the snow, listening to that woman pray? Can you believe those hands are burned into my mind and I think of them and miss them more than anything? If one thing in my life works out to plan, I will see those hands again in 14 months. If one thing in my mind never goes away I hope it is that prayer.
I know of a smile that makes me hate my eyes because they cannot handle the beauty. I shield my eyes from her. I bask in the radiating glow of her smile. I have had dreams of wearing her smile on my lips like a comfortable pair of slippers. I have slaughtered a million aspirations in order to live a thousand years for the fraction of a second that she will be aware of the legions of feelings I've hidden from her. After that moment I will die, and spend eternity painting her body with the glow of stars.

A Special

Right. I hope you die quick and clean. The alternative is quite sad. The alternative is configured of giant birds returning from prehistoric periods, the chupacabra ripping flesh from bone, aliens building pyramids, human history begining on Mars and everything I listen to and believe from conspiracy radio.
If I ever meet an alien I am going to feed it salsa and then laugh at it as it bugs out and goes home from intense jalepeno flavor. Alien races don't think fire tastes good. We know better.
It's going to be a very long year.
The year of 2006 is damn near done. I say good riddance. Who needs you? I sure don't that's who.
Fuck 2006 and fuck 2007 while we're at it. When is 2008 going to happen?
I wish I had a billion dollars.
I like mustard.
I am so tired of being this busy. Or maybe I am just tired.
I want a shit-ton of money.
I want to put mortar under brick.
I will not finish a singl thought today.

I'm Hard Again

Right. Because I am bored and cannot sleep I did this stupid thing. I am blog nutting on you twice today.

01. Initials:
FU

02. Name someone with the same birthday as you:
Who bloody cares? Dalai Lama

03. Last thing you ate:
Cough syrup

04. For or against same sex marriage:
Depends on how hot they are.

05. Last person you hugged:
Paul's kids

06. Do you believe in God:
Yes

07. How many U.S states have you been to:
30

08. ?

09. Ever lived outside of the US:
For fuck's sake.

10. Why are you still up?
Because I am destined to loathe every minute of my life.

11. Who made you angry today?
Damn near everyone.

12. Favorite type of Food?:
Type? Protiens? Tomato soup.

13. Favorite holiday:
Sait Patrick's Day

14. Do you download music:
Daily

15. What illegal things have you done?:
I can't talk about it.

16. Where would you want to go on a first date?:
The dog track.

17. Would you date the person who posted this before you?
Not with your dick.

18. Has anyone ever sang or played for you personally?:
No. That would be weird.

19. Who was the last person you spoke to?:
Paul

20. Do you like Bush:
The band? No. The prez? He has his moments. The Beer? Sure.

21. Have you ever bungee jumped:
Mother fucker. I have fast ropped into a live fire range.

22. Have you ever white-water rafted:
Yes

23. Has anyone ten years older than you ever hit on you?:
Yes. We did not bone. This one guy I knew, his mom had a chocolate dildo. That's not really hitting on me, but worth mentioning every time I think of it.

24. When was the last time you went bowling?
Like last week. I still suck.

25. Have you met a real redneck:
I'm in the fucking Army.

26. How is the weather right now:
Night

27. What song are you listening to right now:
Boards of Canada

28. What is your current fav song?
I can't stop watching Shakira sing back in black

29. What was the last movie you watched?:
Clash of the Titians

30. Do you wear contacts:
Negatron (No)

31. Where was the last place you went besides your house?:
Went? Like to the bathroom? Either way it is work.

32. what are you afraid of?
Jesus

33. How many piercings and tattoos do you have?
A few tattoos

34. How many pets do you have?:
1 dog, she lives with my mom

35. Have you ever loved someone?
All over her face

36. What turns you on?
The vague possibility of having the prospect of a shot at sex

37. What do you usually order from Starbucks:
Coffee black

38. Have you ever fired a gun:
Yes, along with a rifle, carbine, sidearm, mortars, artillery, grenade launcher, anti-tank gun, .50 cal machine gun and other shit

39. Are you missing someone:
A few

40. Fave TV show?:
Sportscenter

41. Do you have an ipod?:
Yes

42. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celeb?
From time to time

43. Whats your mom's name:
Linda Faith

44. Who would you like to see right now
Unkind and Cocaine

45. Favorite band of all time?
Frank Sinatra

46. Do you use chapstick daily?
What the bloddy? No.

47. Have you ever been caught doing something you weren't supposed to?
Daily

48. Favorite flower:
The pornstar flower tucci

49. Butter, plain, or salted popcorn?
Salt

50. What books are you reading?
The Game: Penetrating the Secret Society of Pickup Artists by Neil Strauss

51. Have you ever ridden in a limo?
Once

52. Has anyone you were really close to passed away?
Yes

To Sin I Am A Pawn

Right. This is me before I fall. Before I fall I will be as sick and demented as I want. I'll have represented, flown the flag and held it the fuck down. That's how I'm rolling. That's how it's supposed to be.
It's all coming together nicely.
I've no clue as to what to write about.
Work blows.
I have this private who refuses to believe me that his ass will become a better runner. It's getting bloody old. Everyday I run him till he cries, and everyday he seems to get slower. I don't understand it.
I think the Foggy Dew is the greatest song ever sung.
I think I forgot to pay my security deposit. I don't see this being a problem considering I haven't unfinished packing yet and my current plan is to finish the day before I go back home. But I'll probably be sued by the German people. A class action lawsuit. You want to know some bullshit? My windows are clearly illegal. I have no doubt that my windows are a hazard to night driving. I know I am the only person in Germany to have an Acura as they don't even sell them over here. I know I drive fast. But seriously, I fail to believe the Gustapo have nothing better to do than wait for me to pull out of my driveway and follow me to work every morning. This is getting tiresome.

Hung They Out The Flag Of War

Right. Blogging is like eating twinkies for dinner. It sounds like a really good idea, but always leaves me feeling sort of sick. No wait it isn't blogging that's like eating twinkies for dinner, it's eating twinkies for dinner. I need to puke.
I am pissed that no one fights on my blog these days. I am also pissed that cocaine stopped using my blog as his blog. I can rectify one of those problems. I will have a weekly "share" with you. Every week I will share something about me with you and you can fight over how much I rule. Agreed.
To start this off, I would like to share with you my most embarrassing secret. Every time I see a zit, I want to pop it. Not just if the zit is on me, but if one is on yout too. If you have a zit and we have lunch, I will just be thinking how much I would love to squeeze the crap out of that zit. It would make my day if I were with a girl who would get like 4 zits a day, and she would let me pop them for her. Maybe not so much on her face, but like a nice shoulder zit, or a leg zit or maybe a neck zit. Something I could just squeeze an it would squirt its zit semen out. It would make my fucking day. I am a sick, sick dude. But I can't stop thinking about how much I want to pop your zit. Even now as I type, my heart quickens. Partly because I have heart palpitations, but mostly because I am excited about the prospect of popping your zit. I have dreams about popping zits. It is great. I popped a zit today of mine on my abdomen, and straight blood shot out. It was a first and I liked it.
I don't have too many zits though, so I can't pop as many as I'd like.
I am giving serious consideration to going to see Shakira live and in concert in January. I'd like to have premarital sex with Shakira. I'd also like to have marital sex with Shakira. Let's be honest with each other, I'd have any kind of sex with Shakira.
If I won the powerball and bought a castle, would you move in with me?
I was thinking of getting in on this myspace trend. I want to do it to keep in touch with my peeps. However, I really don't have any peeps. Nor do I have a camera or very many pictures of myself. But I think if I had a myspace page, I'd use "Unpretty" by TLC as my music. That shit would be funny.
If it were up to me, and I hope one day it is, I will devote eight hours a day to work, eight hours to working out and reading and my last eight hours to keeping the temperature of your hands, feet and legs as warm as possible.

I Wrote You A Letter

Right. I could use a chew. I probably need a shave. I could go for a shower. I'd like a handjob and I'm thirsty. I'm on my way to being a might peckish. My car needs a washing and my shirt needs pressing. But fuck it. Mainly because of reasons I cannot explain because you cannot comprehend. But mainly because I like to keep all information regarding the matter to myself. I'm lazy. Fuck.
I hope I'm not going bald. I probably will. My douche bag brother will have black hair till he's 90 because he is a self serving douche and I am punished for his actions.
Notre Dame is going to play LSU.
Remember when people fought in my comments section? Let us all get back to that. I enjoyed when you prats fought.
I had a dream that I met this girl I already knew for the first time. It was hot. She is so bloody hot in my mind. Not so much hot as she is a kaleidoscope of vacillating pyrexia inspiring feelings of adoration and lust. The thought of her makes me feel young. The dream I had of her aged my soul a millennia. If her lips taste the way they did in my dream, I would spend the rest of my life never eating or drinking. If she is half the person she is in my dream, then I pledge my life to her. Forever. It is hers. I never knew the girl I dreamt about was the girl of which dreams are possible. I could never imagine something so beautiful, which is why she is real and quenches my thirst from thousands of miles away with sweat from her thighs.

I Was Wrong It Never Lasts

Right. Kate Beckinsale, I have news for you. Most men would look at your hair and say, "That woman might be retarded because of how that hair is stupid and makes her look ugly." Kate Beckinsale, I have news for you. I am not most men. I do not care how your hair looks, I will unconditionally love you with my soul, in perpetuity, until I find out you are dumb, or don't like college football or hate Conan The Barbarian. I know I am preordained to join in holy wedlock (anal sex) with JESSICA BIEL, but please take heed that I am also going to be divorced from her and I'd be the happiest man ever if you were the cause of my divorce Ms. Beckinsale. I love you. In perpetuity. Or until you decide you need to fuck my best friend.
Why am I an a good mood? Is it because I love my job? Not even close. Is it because of anything related to my 20 hour work days, 7 days a week for no reason and overall numbness to the life? Nope. It is because it is Christmas time and I enjoy Christmas time.
It's not so much the bells, bows or flashing lights as much as it is spending time with everyone I hold dear. Mistletoe is nice, though it has never worked out to my benefit. My favorite Christmas song is Silent Night or when Ray Charles sings Winter Wonderland. But then again I have to listen to crap like Grandma Got Run Over By A Something Or Other.
Stores are packed and the shelved are overstocked with stuff and I get to be the best dressed while I shop, but that's all for show and it's alright, but it's not the spirit of the season. The fact is, this goofy time of year gets me. It grabs hold of my balls and never lets me act like I don't care. Eleven months a year and it's fuck you. But for 31 days, I am happy and at peace.
I wish I were there with you and I am sorry I am not. Moreover, I am sorry I made decisions resulting in me not being around at all for a long time. But soon, I'll be back and we can have Christmas in whatever the bloody month it is when I return. I miss my friends and family greatly.
I love Christmas. I love it ass deep, much the same way I love Kate Beckinsale.