I'm Back With A Vengeance

Alright, I'm back. It's been such a crazy week and a half. I'm going to spew quite a bit of crap out. If it appears that I am jumping around like an epileptic at a square dance, I apologise in advance.

Let me begin by thanking all of you for the concern and kind words. I greatly appreciate it.

In brief summary of last week, my Grandfather died. Sad news yes, but it didn't bring me to any form of incapacitation. I had only seen him a few times in the last twenty years. I'll save my childhood memories for a later post. No funeral was planned just a memorial. I have not, an most likely will not be invited. I will remember him and celebrate his life privately in my own way.

In the days after his death I found myself putting a great deal of thought in the whole "Death" thing. In my mind I actually constructed a great blog post about the subject. I wrote it, read it, edited it, and re-wrote it several times in my head. It was amazing. When the time came to transfer the words from the grey matter to the computer, it occurred to me. It was pretty fucking bleak and dark. Well written yes, but frankly it was depressing as hell. So, I elected to keep it up top. Maybe someday I will let it out. For now. . . .I'll wait.


With all of my introspective assessment and vain attempts at self analyzation I have not found the key to happiness. I did find an old rusty lock where the fucking thing must go, but *hmmmpph*, no damn key. . . .I'll keep looking.

Last week I outed myself a bit. I was in a strange mood and needed to give some of me, to all of you. I have been considering it for quite some time. To tell you the truth, my job will provide a lot of entertaining material for the blog. I also rambled about my pre-blog research. I'm weird like that. I like to know about "things" before I commit involvement. So if I sound like a wacko for reading "Blogging for Beginners" lists. . . . Take a good look at this. . . .

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, outing myself and "honesty". My decision to use a pseudo name was simple. Anonymity is essential for my career. Besides I think there is something kinda cool about the whole superhero "other" name thing. By the way, the answer is "No"! I don't have bright red body suit with a fire hydrant blazoned across my chest; fucking smart ass. . . . . .

It's actually black with a big "J".

Considering that my "family" has all but vanished. Save the intermittent "Hey, guess who died" call. Here is the "major change" I have decided to pursue. I am going to change my last name. Not my fake Superhero last name, but my real life last name. Having no real connection to the "Wacko Clan", I'm going to drop the Fuckerville Step Dad name in lieu of my biological fathers surname. Mrs. T is ecstatic since she hates the "Now" name and loves the "Birth" name. A new life starting with my old name. I feel good about it.

Anyway campers, it's nice to be back. See you all again tomorrow night. I'll catch up on all of your blogs around lunchtime.

Jake

The Call.

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WTF!!!

Excuse me while I vent!

To give you a little background, I grew up in a small town. A very fucked up small town. I spent nearly my whole youth there. For the sake of the story, let's call it "Fuckerville".

When I moved to Fuckerville at the age of 4, there were about 6000 Fuckervillians living there. Fuckerville is a farming town. So there was a small group of rich Fuckers, a lot of poor migrant Fuckers, and the rest of us Fuckers that were somewhere in the middle. My Mom moved us there from Hollywood when she married my Step-Dad; a pretty well known Fucker that had been in Fuckerville most of his pathetic life. We'll call him "Abusive Asshole".

Now Abusive Asshole never had a good thing to say to me for let's say. . . . .Ever! I wasn't a son, but rather the baggage that came along with the bride. "You'll never amount to anything"; he'd say. Once at the local Fuckerville Fair he pointed to a military recruiter booth and said "there's your future, cause your to dumb to do anything else." Abusive Asshole was a very typical Fucker.

So needless to say, I ended up being somewhat introverted as a young man.

Thirteen years later I followed Abusive Assholes advise and joined the USN in order to escape the hold of Fuckerville. I never looked back! I have gone on to be very successful, but the scars of Fuckerville run deep.

Abusive Asshole died in 2003. Now I didn't celebrate his dying, I was just indifferent about the whole thing. The thing is, as a result of Abusive Asshole's treatment, I no longer speak to my Mom or Brother. The poor Fuckers were just to self absorbed to acknowledged what the Abusive Asshole had done to me.

Here is the part that is pissing me off today. I am a fucked up Fucker. I have been thinking back on my days in Fuckerville and wondering how it is now, in 2008. Talk about confusion! I have spent my whole life hating "Fuckerville" and now I'm wonder if it's changed. I don't know if it's a closure/forgiveness/demented curiosity thing. . . . I mean what the FUCK!!!!