whether your high or low

There is certain news where it's appropriate to spring on someone. News such as: here's an paid vacation! here's fifty dollars, go by some McDonalds! Here's a pair of shorts, go crazy!

But there is some news that is best to be eased in to; some news that must gestate; news that relies on time in order to bring about understanding.

Fourteen days ago little Enrique Alberto was born. Fourteen days ago I became an older brother. I found out today. E.A. was born in town not 15-20 minutes from where I grew up, he is the first member of my close family to be born in Ohio. I'm writing all this down because I have no idea what else to do.

The last I spoke with mein pere was about a month ago, he had told me that he and his wife were thinking about having another kid. In actuality she was already in her third trimester, so any decision on whether they had the baby or not would be illegal in the U.S. So that's that. He shoulda just said we are having a baby.

I'm probably thinking much too much too mulch too munch about this.
It's just strange to feel so removed from that side of my family that I wasn't at least kept in the loop about the baby drama. A least he's healthy and hopefully I'll make the trek over there to meet him.


Welcome him and warn him: our town and family is really fucking dumb.

your excellent health and your cruelty

Yesterday, I did something completely out of the ordinary. I did something.
I put on my shorts (my non shorty short shorts, I was surprised I even had those!) and laced up my sneakz, stuffed myself into a wrinkly ole white t-shirt and I left my apt.

I went on a...what's that word? I hadn't done it in so long that I've forgotten the term for it. It has or at least had been windex'd from my memory. All the booze 'n' hard livin' having demolished any recognition of physical activity not involving bad for you life choices.
It's not walking; well, it's like walking but faster. But it isn't, oh I'm late to work, need to get the train, fast, it's more even paced and you end up breathing a lot harder, and sweating...there's a lot of sweating. Running! That's what I did, I moved my fat stubby legs and ran.

I ran to the park, I ran at the park and I ran home. I did three separate runnins!

Whilst I courais, I thought to myself "I didn't even know the french word for run!" and also "wow, I'm woefully out shape." My body has turned the consistency of stale dough, not entirely soft but definitely shapeless.

So, corriendo, I thought about other things like;
I like running, I hate running, running is fun and running is for saps and losers and why why why am I doing this, why do my lungs burn so bad? oh god are those my shins? when did gravity get so heavy? and why am I hallucinating that there is a giant squirrel doing push ups while a unicorn sits on his back and whittles at a stick!?...........?

So many thoughts running (get it!) through my already inflammed brain matter it was creating so much pressure in my skull thatIi had no choose but to stop.

and I stopped and stretched and a ran home and I stretched there too.

And I breathed in and out, in and out; collapsing into myself I thought




what a mess

Why don't you

It's a windy and slightly cool Saturday evening so I, of course, have found myself gettin' my drank on and watching the teevee. It's a sad state of affairs.

I did buy some shüs though. So this was a "productive" day.

Oh, I also went to work, but meh that barely counts as being productive. I DID GET MY ICE COFFEE DRANK ON.

It was basically like drinking cafe con leche, which I have been drinking since I was like 7 or 8. I'm actually surprised that my growth wasn't stunted. Or maybe it was...maybe I should be like 5'11''! Imagine! Me! I do....too often.

I've started this post with some kind of purpose, but like so many things it has escaped me.

it goes and goes and goes and goes it goes goes goes it and it goes and it

I found out I'm going to get a new brother.

well, will you look at that

You turn on the radio

....That's interesting...

That's one of the never want to hear phrases that you would...well, never want to hear from any kind of medical provider.

I went on a doctorpalooza/doctoroff/doctorthon, I think I'll go with doctoroff because it sounds kinda russian(?), recently curz I got health insurance bee-atchez.

oh-bah-ma oh-bah-ma.

J/K barry bamz didn't give me no health insurance, not yet anywayz.

I got myself a physical and I'm SURPRISINGLY healthy. Like, I blame my age. I eat super unhealthily, I get my drank on, I don't excersise (<-----don't even know how to spell it)!

That's one of those things; unremarkable, normal, average, unextraordinary are really super awesome.

No medical provider is going to say this is very remarkable it looks like you'll never get sick ever or hmmm it looks like you can fly and also have heat vision and super speed and are totally awesome!

No.

Ooooh, this is interesting you have cancer or something...

So well I went to get my eyes check oot. And FULL DISCLOSURE, that's a thing right? I have this thing where my eye get's all googly. When I look to the LEFT my RIGHT eye get's all..."oh you're going to the left? I think I'll go to the UPPER left suck on that LEFT eye" For a long time I was all self conscious about it. Well, I still am, because COME ON it's my fuckin' eyes, you know? It's not like I can hide my yeux (<-----FRANCH), because I'm not a douche bag that can wear sunglasses indoors. Sooooooooo there's that. Apparently my eyes are a lil more google then I thought! GREAT.

Interesting, the eye dorktor said to me as he finished inspecting my jelly-filled eyeholes, while he was uncomfortably close pulling at my lower eyelid. "You're eyes don't regulate themselves" or something...I zoned out and his voice took the consistency and timbre of a pudding filled trombone playing with a mute over the horn, when he did some hand motion that was....disturbing. So I have interesting googly eyes.

At least I have good cholesterol

My arteries aren't the window to the soul

swallowed by a

Dear Diary,

Just came back from a dance party. It felt like I was in a semi-good friend (more likely and acquaintance)'s apartment.

Which I think was the appeal.

But I just could not believe how many homosexuals where there! I'm almost positive that there wasn't a single person there that wasn't of the homosexual experience...

There I was, in a loft space that was covered in pink and black construction paper, and let me tell you, the entrance looked like a cave! Those homosexuals and their love of the theme parties! It never ceases to amaze.

There were also some women there. They did not seem to be bothered by the, dare I say it, excesses of homosexual men. In fact they seemed to not be interested in the men at all. They were perfectly content dancing among themselves. Sure they danced with the men as well but it was platonic. Which I enjoyed thoroughly.

The music! The dancing! The gaiety! It was all exhilarating.

The walk home was quite pleasant as well. Going out into the cool evening air was much appreciated after dancing with a room full of homosexuals. It got very hot in there! In more ways the one...there was also humidity.

Well diary, that's all I have.

Oh! This what the gentlemen sort of looked like. Well the jist of what they looked like!

You're the best!