HMRN SS TreysHead

Here I am…

Standing here…

…………..Like a dumbass.

Picture me;

My hands are at my hips (representing the grandmother)

My eyes are scanning the floor at my feet (representing me at 10)

And my mind is blank… trying to recall where I put something (representing most of the human race over 30)

I fell into this predicament because I tried to multi-task without the required software in my brain. An update that I failed to update….

Now, I am in the “I’ll be damned” zone.

Here’s how it happened:

I had been home (my RV) for a day now and it was time to do the laundry.

I loaded up the rancid menswear into a basket, dug through the drawers for quarters, made sure I had my Tide and Bounce (sounds like a Dub step)

Anyways…

I plunged into the brutal South Arkansas heat, plodding through the humidity that hung about me like a lead cloak, fighting off the Bedouin Tribe…..wait… that last parts not true.

Got carried away…sorry. (I’m soo dramatic and creative sometimes)

Real time: C’mon Trey…Focus! ADHD sux!

Well, anywhos….I finally make it to the wash room after dropping 5 lbs and surviving a mini-stroke.

I……’m better now, thanks for your concern.

Yes, you may touch my pee pee…..

Dammit!! Where’d that come from!?

There I was, trying to tell a damn story, then all of a sudden……BAM!

The dirty old man pops up!!!

Sick bastard…

To hurry this along, I did my laundry…..

I went and got my laundry….

I then bought 2 Cokes and placed them in the basket at opposite corners, next to each of my hands.

That’s where it started to get screwy I think, because I put the basket down on my front steps and grabbed the hose (the crinkly green one like you’ve all seen on QVC or As Seen On TV) and watered my plants.

Of course in this heat, it evaporated within minutes.

Useless…..

I then opened my front door, grabbed the basket, set it inside, and shut the door.

Normal stuff, right….done it a million times right….?

Then, the hitch in my giddy-up….

Something distracted me…just for a freaking split second.

Hey! A squirrel!!!!

That’s when I noticed the envelope on my table I had brought in earlier on one of my desert treks to the park laundry.

Picking it up…”Capitol One?” I hummed…tossing it into the trash…”What’s in your wallet?” I chuckled to myself appreciating my humoristic expertise… (is that a word? I’ll Google it later)

After depositing the letter into the “outgoing” mail with the other vital financial files, I returned my attention to the clean clothes. Bending over toward the basket, I noticed something odd…

“Where are the Cokes?”

I looked in the before mentioned corners…No cokes

I took out each item of folded apparel…Nada

The bottom of the basket was bare…Nyet…Neine!

That’s when I stood and entered into the aforementioned state of bafflement.

“What the hell..?” I said out loud, looking around.

No one answered me.

Crazy people live alone it appears…..

Crap…here we go again. (“WE” are the voices) at least the ones that are still talking to me….

[ Scene 1]

Inside Treys head [Layout of Treys head] Picture a dimly lit Submarine Operations center (“the Con”]

Chekov: “Sir! We’ve got a gap”

Captain Nemo: “Gap…? Again…? I thought we worked that out?”

Bo Derek: “Evidently we missed something sir”

Nemo: “No shit, Sherlock”

 

Scene: Bo Derek running down the beach in a beige one piece.

Real time: See what I have to put up with?

Real time: C’mon Trey…Focus! ADHD sux!

Nemo: “Okay, let’s heat ‘er up…rig for red”

Her?

Chekov: “Aye sir…rigging for red…Initiating power to core for sweep…”

Real time: I slowly start to rotate my body in a counter-clockwise motion. Looking around my immediate area with growing….bafflement. I have not moved from this spot since I set down the basket. 

–Remember to keep the look of bewilderment on my face until I tell you otherwise…okay?

Chekov: “Power optimal sir, ready for array sweep”

Captain Nemo

Nemo: “Make it so number one”

Vienna Boys Choir: “Aye sir”

Real time: Plagiaristic Bastard is I !!

Real time:

As I continue to spin around…yes…in bafflement…I slowly raise my arms to the crucifix position, splaying my fingers like trying to palm a Basketball…..searching. 

But…now…for some reason I am making noises. I am 50 years old…I am slowly spinning around …with my arms extended, and out of my pursed, baffled lips is coming a sound like…”rumrumrumrumrum…”

Weird.

Chekov: “Array deployed sir, power rerouted to array splay”

Nemo: “That is good…cargo?”

Angelina Jolie: “Nothing on the scope sir, shall I return to your quarters and get in a hot, steamy shower with lots of soapy suds?”

Nemo/Chekov/Vienna Boys Choir: “Make it so!”

Real time: C’mon Trey…Focus! ADHD sux!

[Sean Connery/SS TreysHead Science Officer] “Captain…may I suggest a reboot of the Ganglia matrix, predominantly covering the Pre-Frontal grid?”

 

Nemo: “What will that accomplish?”

Connery: “Just a way to clear the junk files that the Capital One bug infected, Captain.”

Real time: still spinning, arms out…”rumrumrumrumrum”

Nemo: “Chekov…power dispersal…pressure? Analysis…?”

Chekov: Minimal power loss sir…But, pressure has risen to 150 over 100….she’s stable for now”

She’s?

Nemo: “Initiate File dispersal!!!”

Sophia Loren: “Aye sir” (her hair is messy and it’s humid in here….her boobs are all sticky lookin’)

Grrrrrr……..

FOCUS!!!!

Real time: I come to a stop from my spinning. I sit down. I open my eyes wider to let in more light, to sharpen my focus.

Connery: “Shut down the Optic Array Chekov, you know this unit has a hard time doing 2 things at once”

He called me a “unit”….ha ha

Chekov: “Yes sir…sorry sir”

[Scene] Captain’s quarters…steam rising…a silhouette moving behind the doo…

What the hell…Focus Trey!!

Real time: “Okay…” I mumble. “I know I have not moved from this spot…its only 6’ in a 360 degree circle…” “What the crap did I do with them?”

I’m getting kind of freaked out now. Got to be Dementia…or blood clots!

Nemo: “Stabilize that pressure mister…!”

Donald Duck: “Aye sir” (you know how he talks)

RT: I am literally stressing now…I don’t know what in the hell…or how in the hell…those Cokes vanished!

Plus, I’m starting to get pissed.

Nemo: “Update?”

Chekov: “She’s right on the line sir…but holding”

Damn….

What is up with this “she” shit?!

Charlton Heston: “Dammit man!…specifics!”

Chekov: “The file dump has finished sir, the optical and splayed array were blank…we got nothing sir”

Nemo/Heston/Connery: “Damn!”

Marilyn Monroe: “Sir…shall I slowly bend over and pick up this pen you dropped?”

Nemo/Heston/Connery/Vienna Boys Choir: “Make it so!

Real time: C’mon Trey…Focus! ADHD sux!

Nemo: “Connery… suggestions?”

Connery:” …Wipe it”

 

Heston: “Dammit man! Wipe it? Are you mad?”

Connery: “It’s the only way to correct our course, Captain…If we continue to maintain this heading the ship will be lost…lost sir”

Nemo: “Chekov my old son…would you be kind enough to…wipe it?”

Devo: “Wipe it good!”

RT: ”Screw this….I’m not sitting here freaking out about this…it’ll drive me nuts! Forget it…they’ll pop up…I probably didn’t even buy the damn things!!!”

Nemo: ” Heading?”

 

Chekov: “Looks like a spot called….Shit Creek, sir; up-river from Denial Bay, sir!”

Nemo: “Break out the oars!”

Angelina Jolie: “We left the paddles on the beach after you spanked my…”

Nemo: “Ahem”

Totally self serving…

Heston: Dammit man! How’re we going to get up  Shit Creek without any paddles!

Nemo: “Steady as she goes…”

RT: I stand up and take the laundry basket (refilled with thoroughly frisked and re-folded clothes) into the bedroom.

I place the basket on my bed…I return to the kitchen. 

I step to the sink to run water for dishes. I add the soap…

Watching bubbles now…dementia coming on fast…

What was I talking about…?

Oh!

I looked at the drainer…”hmmm, better empty that first” I muse.

I pick up the lid of my skillet….

Guess what’s there…?

Yep…Sum Bitch!!!

2 Cokes!!!!

POOF!!

OUTTA FREAKING NOWHERE!!

[Scene: Deck of SS TreysHead] Pandemonium

Alarms screeching…lights flashing…people screaming…Sophia and Angelina in the shower together!!!!

WAIT!!

Real time: C’mon Trey…Focus! ADHD sux!

I stand there…shaking my head side to side…baffled

Unable to deal with this new input.

Sanity…waning

How…in…the…hell, did they get in there? There is no F’n way?!

I have absolutely no recall of that instant.

None. Nada. Nyet. Neine!

There is only one thing to do now.

Buy some Ensure…and diapers.

……And wait for the home.

I hope they have Jell-o……

Oh…just one more of Angie….

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Identity, Check Please

It’s a drizzly, cold, yucky day here in Irving, Texas….

Here’s what I’m thinking.

You know what one of the main benefits of being lower middle class is, or should I say “upper poverty”?

Not being concerned, in the least, of having my identity stolen.

What about your privacy, you may ask.

I’m an American; I lost my right to true privacy when I got my birth certificate and Social Security number.

I really, really don’t care about it; I have nothing to steal…other than my heart….. ; *

That’s probably the only reason, though.

If I was rich I would most likely hire these same identity thieves to make me richer and live off the sweat and blood of the computer ignorant and down-trodden.

Like I said…I’m an American and a capitalist.

It’s what we do.

If someone wants to steal my identity and feels like they can profit from it, more power to them and good luck.

They will get what they deserve; nothing.

I have no money.

I have no savings.

I have no property. (I don’t count the laptop I’m using as actual property)

I do have debt, however.

Lots and lots of debt.

I live paycheck to paycheck like so many others in this country and the wider world.

Most times I live from day to day; monetarily inept and cash strapped.

Thank God I still have my looks….

Father Time is working on those, as we speak.

Thieving asshole….

If an identity thief wants to steal something of mine, steal my laziness or lack of concern for other people’s drama.

I mean, I do care about people and all that, and I wish that we all had an easier road to hoe.

I just don’t care about their ‘regular’ life problems.

We all have enough to worry about in our own lives, right?

I do not care if you have not found Jesus.

I know, that HE knows, where you are and when he needs you HE will find YOU.

Whether you want him to, or not.

He’s funny that way…

I bet you didn’t know that Jesus was a hippie…

Control freak if you ask me…

I do not care what political party you may belong to.

Wave your flag, spout your bile…then, not vote.

If you really wanna change things; smile and laugh out loud, firm handshakes and hug someone when they need it.

The true way to happiness…?

Be completely, totally and truthfully self-effacing and humble in all things.

Never fails.

I do care if people like me and have a good opinion of me, that’s only natural; but it doesn’t rule my life.

If you like me, good….you are enlightened.

If you don’t, then you don’t know what you’re missing.

If you don’t like me then, join the long and distinguished line of people that can kiss my ass….

Anyways…

Identity thief, please steal my life, I dare ya!

I wanna see what you can do with it.

I’ll wager that you will give it back very soon, because only big boys take the hard road and conquer it.

My life is like an item at a yard sale.

You pick it up; it’s a little worn and looks like it may be useful again someday or maybe even worth more if properly cleaned up and restored.

But there’s no way in hell you’re paying $5 for this!

Identity thief, please steal my laziness.

The longest distance I have ever seen is the 3’ between the table and the kitchen sink.

Dirty dishes are so heavy….and they got food on them and…..tomatoes or carrots or something….

*Shudder*

Plus it takes so dang long for the water to get hot….

I am a firm believer in, and I know for a fact, that it has been proven in several scientific tests that dishes must be soaked for at least 8 hours
before being handled by male hands.

The hardest door I’ve ever encountered is attached to something called a “dishwasher”.

I can’t decipher the ancient runes on the knob thingees….

Have you ever noticed that dishes rearrange themselves in a dishwasher?

Yeah, me neither.

I think my wife said that but, I don’t really listen to her when she’s in the kitchen.

It is physically impossible to eat and listen at the same time.

Anyway, I thought only poor people and illegal aliens were dishwashers.

Tell me I’m wrong!!!

Me in potatoic repose…js

Oh well….

The washing machine and dryer; well, that’s what the wife calls them, just stare at me from the doorway of that place called “the laundry room”

I ain’t going in there.

There’s “girl” stuff hanging everywhere…..granny panties….teen-aged daughter thongs….

Wait! What the hell!?

“Laacccyyyyyyy!!!!!! Come hither o child of mine!! Please tell me that these….things….are eye patches!”

Plus, it smells funny in there and that cat shits in a box, sometimes.

Now that I think about it, I didn’t even know we had a cat until recently, I just thought it was a door stop or a rumpled rug or a new throw pillow on the couch.

He’s lazy too, evidently.

The “I only eat albacore” No-Rat killing bastard just assumes that if he shit’s in the piles of clothes that he doesn’t have to bury anything in
that dirty old litter-box.

Hide and reek…

“Surprise, Mom!”

One day I’m gonna whip up a batch of teriyaki sauce and eat that damn cat….
…on a paper plate.

The most focused I have ever been is while staring at a balled up piece of paper on the floor next to the trash can after I missed my basketball shot.

I must have stared at that thing for almost 3 minutes.

“Move” my mind said….

The sweat on my forehead was cold, my eyes burned into the ball of trash.

It was an experiment in telekinesis.

Focus, dammit!

I couldn’t get the paper ball to move using my mind, but I moved my wife from “the laundry room” where she was cussing the cat door stop; she picked
up the scrap, looked at me, shook her head then put it in the can.

Success!

She’s a lot bigger than a ball of paper so….

Irrefutable, scientific proof.

Identity thief, please steal my wife.

The Hobbit

She makes weird noises when she sleeps.

She can’t reach anything.

She blames me for the dirty potty.

She says I use too much toilet paper “What the hell, you trying to write a book!?”

Cleanliness is Godliness.

She waddles when she walks; people at Walmart stare and take iPhone pictures.…

She wrecks every vehicle she has ever had; not just wrecked…totaled!

She kills plastic plants and beloved pets.

“Here Kitty kitty….”

She likes Dr. Pepper for the love of all that is holy!!!

She can’t figure out HOW IN THE HELL to keep spaghetti noodles from sticking together!

I’m not even gonna say anything about her pork chops, other than the fact that when they are served….

I become devoutly Jewish.

Looks clean….

Poof! Oi Vay!!!

Get this!

She slipped me a mickey and got me drunk before our wedding and the only words the preacher could make out from me was “Yepths” or “Ithe doothe”

The words were obviously from the South Georgia Gaelic dialect for “Help” and “Kill Me” or if the intonation is used in a harsher inflection it means “Meet me out back with your car running”

Southerners are so illiterate….

Okay, I gotta go and do a little work and look like I’m a company man.

Identity thief, please steal my…

Hell, I think I’ll just keep everything like it is if y’all don’t mind.

Low cost and high maintenance….

So, y’all take care and don’t let whitey keep you down.

Love and smooches from your favorite Saltine American….

Treyzguy.

P.S: Please Donate to the Destitute Treyzguy fund.
Credit cards only….

Crying Shame

This one is a little more serious, content wise.

I am a dormant alcoholic you see….

Then, I began to write.

I wish I had started earlier, the writing part I mean.

I was 19 when I took my first drink.

A Crying Shame….

I scored the winning touchdown during a junior varsity football game.

It was a 58 yard touchdown.

My first touchdown.

There was only 1:16 left on the clock in the 4^th quarter.

I was the hero for the next day.

Then, life went on….

I was working on a power plant as an Ironworker. I was sitting on top of the highest steel point of the structure, 340’ above the ground.

2 fighter planes from a nearby base had been using our construction site as a mock target for about a month.

This particular day, they flew by the building so low and so slow, I saw one of the pilots throw me a salute as they passed.

I waved back.

Then, life went on…

My daughter was born, and we gave her a name that was on the front of a baby name book sitting beside my wife’s bed.

We called her “Copyright 1985”.

No, not really. Her beautiful name is Stephanie.

She doesn’t call me daddy anymore.

She doesn’t call me at all.

That doesn’t stop me loving her though.

I call her every day in my mind.

Life goes on.

Of course I remember when both my son’s were born, but not with as much clarity as the first.

I had started drinking by then.

I don’t remember how or why I started, but I can assure you that it robbed me of memories.

Maybe I shouldn’t say “robbed’.

I’ll say “I gave them away”

I have some idea why I started, but I can’t blame that on my wife or the new responsibilities of a father.

I won’t even blame the sexual abuse, my Bi-polar dad or my depressed mother with abuse in her childhood.

I just can’t remember why I started to drink.

I will write about particular occurrences or what I can recall of them in later posts.

Something happened the other day that surprised me and made me look at myself in a different light.

It made me ashamed of myself, but also helped me to realize that this is what sober people probably thought of me….through their eyes.

I have started following a blog from Catherine Lyon, a recovering “Gambling” addict.

Catherine had read and commented on one of my ‘sad’ posts. I pulled up her site to return the courtesy and to see
what she was all about.

When I saw that she was a gambling addict, I began to explore some of the details she was giving about her life and addiction.

Do you know what the first thought in my freaking mind was….?

How in the hell can someone be addicted to gambling?

That’s just stupid….throwing your money away like that!

I have no concept of someone

“NEEDING” to buy a lottery ticket or “NEEDING” to play a slot machine!

I didn’t have that problem.

I can take it or leave it.

The only reason I even buy a lottery ticket or two during the year is mainly because I have a dollar or two left over from a purchase, or I’m bored.

Can you believe I actually thought that?

Me…? A freaking alcoholic, judging the merits of someone else’s weakness or addiction!

I hate hypocrites!

I HATE BEING A HYPOCRITE!!!

What do gamblers say about alcoholics then?
Maybe they say…. “How in the hell can someone be addicted to getting drunk?”

“That’s just stupid….throwing your life away like that!”

It’s amazing isn’t it? I’m sitting here shaking my head as I type this and seeing myself a little better.

Of course I look handsome in the mirror, but I obviously need a little work on the inside.

I cannot believe that I was judging other addicts….or anybody come to think of it.

I think I’m gonna get tattoos on the back of my hands that say “Judge not”.

I’m such an asshole sometimes….

I cannot and never will understand why people say that they are addicted to porn, but if porn can be addictive…..I can say
that it is REAL IN THEIR MIND.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been in a bar and looked across the counter and seen my evil twin “TreyDawg” in the mirror behind the bartender, staring back at me thru rows of bottles, shaking his head….a sad look on his face.

He asks me “How in the hell did we get back in here?”

“I have no idea” thinks I…

Addiction can happen AT ANY TIME!

TO ANYBODY!

It’s not enough to keep your distance from ‘addictive’ things.

You have to actively be on the alert for anything that may ‘tempt’ you.

Needful things….

“I’m not an alcoholic” I said as I pulled myself from the dumpster in the alley behind the bar.

“I’m not an alcoholic” I said as I lay in that water-filled ditch outside a bar.

“I’m not an alcoholic” I said for the rest of my life…..

Denial…

It’s all I had left that was truly mine.

If I couldn’t believe it, how can I fault other people for not believing me?
I have actually stood in front of a beer cooler physically shaking, and contemplating stealing beer because I just realized it is a Sunday and there are ‘No Beer Sales on Sunday’.

I have actually bribed and succeeded sometimes in getting a cashier to sell me beer after hours or on Sundays.

Most times the ‘gratuity’ costs more than the beer did.

I only needed enough to get thru the day you see….

It’s been 2 years since I have had a serious binge. But, I’m going to tell you a secret….

My mouth is watering….I want a beer.

I want a beer bad.

I’m typing this, trying to recall instances of binges and my fucking mouth starts to water….

That…is how close I am to relapse.

On the edge of a razor soaked in alcohol.

I start to think about it, my body STARTS TO CRAVE……

I am actually feeling my body get that ‘anticipation’ feeling all addicts/alcoholics experience.

“He’s thinking about it! That’s a good sign” says the monster inside me.

Weird…and scary.

But for now…I’m fighting it.

You see….My FEAR is greater than my need.

I’ll use anything that works.

But I also know that fear subsides with time….and, I KNOW me.

My pen gently weeps…..

As I write this, I just realized that I must be living in constant fear.

I have to…The “need” is always here….my shadow.

A dread chain…

“I can’t go back….I won’t go back…I will never touch it again”….has said every addict/alcoholic.

What a life, my life.I am sorry that I judged Catherine’s blog and her gambling addiction.

I’m sorry that I was a hypocrite.

But, I’m glad that I was able to recognize this when it happened.

Usually an addict or alcoholic takes a lot more time to figure out that they’re being assholes or truly care about anyone else’s feelings.

You see, every true addict/alcoholic will tell you that we are a selfish lot.

The crux of it is…. Is that we DON’T WANT TO BE THIS WAY.

“Then stop doing it…Change!” say the regular people.

We try every day….every minute.

“Saints are sinners that never quit trying”
Alcoholics/addicts aren’t sinners, at least as far as our addictions go.

We’re just people….

People that have lost our way at some point, on this narrow path called life.

Step 1: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol/addiction—that our lives had become Unmanageable.

I’m sorry fellow addicts/alcoholics that I was judgmental….

Does that mean I’m getting normal again!!?? LOL!!!

There is one thing extra I’d like to share with you dear readers.

Something that I have just realized at this moment, as I was trying to end this post.

This blog that I have created….

These stories that I tell….

These memories that I share….

Keep me humble, and aware of my feelings.

I honestly believe that writing keeps me sober.

So…thank you all for being my new addiction!

I crave you…. LOL!!

Are you available this Sunday?

Skill Set

Sometimes I can be a little….what’s the word, S’Momus?

Full of shit, you say?

This guest blogger thing is fun.

I’m getting to look thru my old posts and read ones that I forgot I even wrote!

When S’Momus first met me, I was in a “Love me” phase.
……Almost 51 years now, I’ve been there….

Yes, sometimes I am full of myself and think too highly of my abilities.

I was going to rule the WordPress blogosphere and turn everything on it’s ear.

Then, I wrote my 2nd post and realized there were lots of other very talented people out there writing their hearts out.

It’s been a fantastic 2 years on my blog and S’Momus, Rene’, Quiall and the englishproffessor are the 4 that supported me first and told me how great I was….

I didn’t need the reassurance but, I appreciated it, nonetheless.

Old chicks dig me….

Enjoy…

I’m not bragging or boasting…no more than usual at least but, I’d like to share with you…some of the skills that set me apart from the rest of y’all.
These talents were bestowed upon me by powers greater than you or myself.

I have to give a shout out to a bit of a Valhalla groove and some Mt. Olympus jive, and of course…just plain God-given gifts.

I want to express my utmost humility in this endeavor and stress that I never asked for these extraordinary abilities. I am just a human being that was fortunate enough to have been born into a higher gene pool than most.

I would worship myself against my own will….

No…No…its okay.

I don’t mind you asking. I try to make sure the little people of the earth find a reason to go on living and reaching for their dreams. Maybe my light can show them the way to a higher plane of fulfillment and getting the most out of their low-born status.

There is a sense of charity, I guess, in sharing my omniscience in most fields of known stuff. I don’t even try to categorize all of my talents anymore. There are so many. I don’t even know if I am proficient in a particular field, study or endeavor until a situation arises and I conquer it. I can’t explain it, it just happens…like popcorn.

Like these 3 Hacks:

1) Albert Einstein – Theory of Relativity
I knew about this way before Einstein. I know I wasn’t born yet, but I was a glint in my dad’s dad’s eye and I was aware even then that when you have NO time, relatives show up.

2) Leonardo DaVinci – Mona Lisa and other stuff, like that church graffiti he done in Rome, Georgia for example.
I have a big problem with this guy. Everybody’s screaming and hollerin’ about how great the Mona Lisa is. I look at it and think “Hell, at least show her boobs!” Italian chicks have great racks!!

3) Walt Disney – Cartoons
I don’t know how he came up with his ideas but I know that I don’t have to take LSD to see talking mouse’s, ducks, dogs, teapots and mermaids…

These goobers are only a smidgen of the wanna-be’s of history.

Mere Peasants….compared to Treyvius Maximus (That’s Latin for “me”)

Now, back to my humbling god-like abilities:

1) I can forget what I was doing at any given second, much faster than the above average person.

2) I can fall asleep in any position as long as I have my Ambien.

3) I can hallucinate in any position…as long as I have my Ambien.

4) I can make up an excuse so fast, that I believe it before I’m even finished with it.

5) I can eat a whole bag of grapes at Wal-Mart without any one ever seeing me. It only takes about 45 round trips to other aisles to throw off suspicious parties.

6) I can look at a woman and know instantly that she does not find me attractive…or know that I’m following her.

[6 addendum] I am impervious to mace, pepper spray, tazers up to 1 million volts and kicks to the sack from Pumps or Croc’s…and Ralph Lauren chick
combat boots…

7) I can forget what I was doing at any given second, much faster than the above average person.

8) Wait….I already said that…didn’t I?

Anyways…

9) I can look at a full trash bag and know someone else is going to take it out…Instantly

10) I can look in a mirror and know for a fact that…yes, I am better looking than yesterday; some things are fucking obvious okay?

[10 addendum] Do you know what it’s like to never be surprised by your own appearance in a mirror? My mirror says “Mm mm mmm, I’d do you if it wasn’t against the bible”

11) I can look at my naked body in a full length mirror and know for a fact, that there’s someone else in my house and they like to hide my dirty books.

12) I can hold my breath for 20 seconds while I bend over to tie my shoes. I tried to hold it longer but, I passed out……That’s why I told NASA about Velcro after I invented it.

13) I can hold 300 full Wal-Mart shopping bags with 5 fingers, while trying to push the cart into the little cart corral thingee, dodging Chevy’s and cussing into my cell phone because the wife just remembered something she didn’t put on the list.

14) I have better times for sex than professional bull-riders. They’re off in 8 seconds…I’m off in 5. My wife has a short attention span, THANK GOD!

15) I can put off everything that must be done without blinking an eye.

16) (Jeopardy Theme….)

17) ….See? I didn’t even blink. But now my eyes are watering.

18) I can convince anyone in the world that they are the most important person to me….I can maintain this illusion for almost 5 seconds. (See above sex prowess statement #14)

[18 ADDENDUM] Always marry a virgin. They’ll think you’re a freakin’ porn star.

19) I can harbor ill-will, animosity, anger, murderous thoughts and spite for anyone at any moment, for an indeterminate time that suits my need for vengeance. I was gonna say jealousy or envy, but when I looked up the words, I realized they’re not in my personal vocabulary. They’re in that Webster Dictionary but, I still didn’t get it.

20) I can think of only myself and never EVER consider someone else’s opinion…Instantly

21) I can make decisions and never EVER consider the consequences or legal statutes

22) I can start out a new post with no idea what it’s gonna be about and still crank one out.

A freaking awesome skill set, baby!

I am the Alpha Dawg amongst puppies.

You’re Welcome for my time,

 

Crazy On The Inside

The fun part of this guest blogger thingee, that we’re all doing for A-M; and the lazy part, is that I don’t have to come up with anything new to write about or offer to the jungle that is this Land of WordPressia.

I have lot’s of posts that no one has read, admired or recognized the God given talent it takes to create this caliber of…inane dribble; or is it “drivell” or “drivele” (Hell, I don’t know)

I wish I knew big words like S’Momus.

She’s edumuhcated….

I saw her cleavage on Facebook, once….I swear! Ask her sister!!!

Muwahahahaha!

Anywhos, now that you all have the image of A-M’s heaving bosoms prancing around social media outlets, let’s visit one of my first posts that A-M liked and commented on.

“It’s kind of a “long post” but goood”

That’s what S’Momus said, I swear!

Randy little Scot….

She was one of my first.

Grrrr….I love teachers.

Enjoy: Double Shot of Owie

For the new people that have no life and are trolling….

I feel you…

There are some things in this world of mine…and probably others that bother me.

I will give you a quick perspective into what I mean.

As you get older there are things on your body that begin to decline…and just plain fall off.

Your hair gets thinner or takes up permanent resident status with your brush, church pews, cheap sweaters, the sink or a comb in my case.

The toe nails and finger nails change their molecular structures and become possible instruments of ocular extraction.

Skin becomes drier and looser thus causing the application of numerous chemical compounds in order to prevent friction and/or possible fire, and thus, increasing the chance of causing cancer and/or addiction.

Joints pop. Back pops. Neck pops. Fingers pop. Toes pop.

Yes…I have become Sir Pops-a-Lot.

I am not obese. I am heavy of course, DUE TO THE FACT that I have no will power at all where Wendy’s or Taco Bell is concerned.

I am a genetically engineered consumer of fast foods.

A poor man that is dependant upon salt, sugar and fat…and Pepsi…and Bud Light…and…other stuff I can’t recall

I am a devotee of Yellow #5 and Mono-Sodium Glutamate.

It’s sad…I agree.

I wonder if the parts of my body that are becoming useless, saggy, or just in the way, is caused by my lifestyle?

I know it is really, but denial is all I have left that is mine.

I have also come to the realization, (for it is evident) that I am a closet Hypochondriac. I have not “come” out yet.

I get little “ghost pains” and twinges, blinks, twitches and throbbing that occur for no reason…well, you old bastards know what I mean.

I can be sitting, or standing or basically breathing when I will get one of these phantom owies.

Hell…I can’t even vegetate on my couch in a potatoic repose!

Here’s what happens in my brain:

A pain in my calf: “Oh crap! I’ve got a blood clot! [No ER]

A pain in my bicep: “Holy crap! I’ve got a blood clot!” [No ER]

A pain in my right side: “Oh crap! I’ve got appendicitis…or a blood clot”! [No ER]

A pain in my left side: “Holy Shit! I’m having a heart attack!” [Think about ER]

A headache is “definitely an aneurysm”. [No ER]

A bad visit to Taco Bell or Wendy’s: “Holy Hannah, I’ve got E Coli #2435261!” [No toilet paper]

I am getting so tired of these little pains and hypochondriatic spells…shit falling out…falling off…hanging off and just plain unpleasant to look at, or even smell.

That’s right…smell!

There are odors that escape from my body that I KNOW can only be caused by dead or dying tissues and/or failing organs.

When a grown man reaches a point in his life that he no longer smiles at his own farts, but assumes a disgusted or even alarmed reaction to them…it’s too late.

Pepto-Bismol is a lie!!

There is no going back to 21 or 25 yrs of age.

I won’t even get into the memory lapses. Well, just this observation…

I am starting to remind myself of my grandmother (Bless her heart).

I can remember things that happened when I was 3 yrs old!! Really!

But where are the truck keys? Where’s my pen? What was I just gonna do? Did I take my medicine?

Shit…I’m gonna have a heart attack!

I used to be sexy.

Quite a handsome guy…

But…now…I look like someone else’s grandpa.

I have now looked in a mirror and actually said “Good lord Trey” and not in a religious manner either.

It’s the blood clots…I’m sure of it.

I had my first real panic attack just a short time ago, from a dead sleep…woke me up!

[Yes on the ER]

I knew I was dying…someone was trying to kill me…the room was getting smaller…I couldn’t breathe!…”Where’s my damn socks!” Chaos…

All my blood clots were finally breaking loose! It was terrible.

I’ve never had a panic attack before. It lasted about 6 hrs. That is technically not an attack…it is a siege.

This only happen’s to old women right?

Great…I’ve turned into an old lady that looks like someone elses grandpa.

Only cost me a million dollars at the ER.

Thank GOD! I had insurance…my co-pay was only $300,000

• Blood test (6 tubes!)

• Standard chest x-ray

• Oxygen tube in my nose

• Got ran through the big machine that spins around and around…the people behind the screen say…”Hold your breath now!”

20 minutes later…”Now breathe”…then Vanna claps…Pat claps…and I spin the Bankrupt…

And all I got from the hospital was a bottle of water. No pill no shot…anything to stop whatever was happening to me.

I was freaking out!!

But, they didn’t worry about the poor old guy with all his shit falling off. They just ran me through all the tests during a panic attack and didn’t tell me anything! For 6 hrs!!!

Diagnosis: Narcissistic Paranoid Hypochondria

The only saving grace was the x-rays were clear…

My vitals and juices were up to snuff.

And mostly…no blood clots. (I did ask them to check for me while I was there)

I think they lied though. I still get the little ghost pains.

How long does it take for a blood clot to form?

Oh….Something else that I want to get into real quick while I’m thinking about it….

There are lots of wonderful people in the world.

They are kind, considerate and empathetic.

They are sensitive to another’s needs and quick to offer advice when needed.

There is only one problem though:

They mean well.

Let me explain the folly of these good intentions.

If you paid any attention to the above, you are aware of my…problem.

Like I have stated; I am a victim of Narcissistic Paranoid Hypochondria (to be referred to henceforth as NHP). I made up the word because it seems to cover the entire spectrum and endless parameters of my “condition”. Those ailments that have happened…are happening, or are going to happen.

It is a total figment of my imagination and I’m cool with that.

I am a firm believer that if it can be thought of…it can happen. I am also one year away from my 50^th birthday and have come to except the fact that I am not as spry or young as I used to be.

No No…it’s true.

I’m just glad it hasn’t affected my handsomeness or animal magnetism.

It’s not the roads I traveled…it’s the miles baby!

Here is a scenario for y’all…tell me if this has happened to you.

You are explaining to a friend or acquaintance that you have a newly discovered ailment.

We do that sort of thing after 40.

Weather…Politics…ailments.

That’s what we talk about.

Anyways…

After you explain the chronology, biology, incubation, and personification of said ailment, your friend looks concerned. Even makes sympathetic overtures and comforts you.

Then…just as soon as they have convinced you it’s not all that bad…

They do it! They can’t help it….

They either have had the same ailment (only much worse of course) or know someone or even knew someone that had something like you described.

Unfortunately the one they “knew” has passed away, but they don’t know if that particular ailment was the cause of it.

NHP terror scale 1-10? ….5

They start describing the ailment.

One of the problems for victims of NHP, that we encounter, is that every time a ‘well meaning’ person describes a freaking symptom of said ailment, it is instantly locked into our minds as if though it’s been there the whole…damn…time….just waiting to kill us.

We just never noticed it before….

“Hell yeah…it’s happening right now!” “Damn, I didn’t notice that particular symptom, but now that you’ve described it…”

NHP terror scale 1-10?…7

Holy Shit!

As these nice people keep explaining the several different variations, symptoms and related diseases that can, has or might cause this ailment…shit that I’m definitely gonna Google later, The NHP enters its infectious stage.

I begin to feel the pain in my left side. I can feel a blood clot forming in my leg. The very thing that this person is explaining as a possible cause for my ailment begins to fester and become chronic….becomes real.

NHP terror scale 1-10?…9

You don’t do that to victims of NHP!

Don’t explain your related ailments then add big scientific names to them!

And for God Sakes don’t tell them the symptoms or what to check for!

They’ll never leave the freaking house!

My insurance won’t even begin to cover me for the things I “think” are wrong with my dumb ass!

WebMD is a drug for victims of HP. It was created just for us. We are the life blood of pharmaceutical companies!

We are the trail blazers in the Land of Pharmacopeia!

We suffer so that mankind may prosper and be symptom free…

Now, while I’m sitting here in my truck writing this, I can feel my varicose vein in my leg throbbing and it feels hot to the touch. My left shoulder is tight and feels hot. I think I’m getting a toothache…my cheek feels hot.

NHP terror scale 1-10?…10

Why would y’all do that to me?

You know I suffer from NHP.

If you have an ailment that seems to match the symptoms to any of mine…don’t tell me.

Just say something like “Oh, you’re full of shit Trey, there’s nothing wrong with you…you’re too young and handsome to have problems like that”.

Is that too much to ask?

I know you mean well…but humor the crazy person.

Please?