Ya know, 2007 went pretty damn fast except for the past three days. I just have not been feeling part of lately (which explains posting the barroom ramblings of my past). Last night I felt like a 19th wheel. Since I was out with so many people it seems silly to say a third wheel or a fifth wheel. No, it was more like a 19th wheel.
Now this afternoon I felt like a third wheel. Went to brunch with two girls, one of whom I've had a few dates with and a friend of hers. I haven't had enough dates with this person to feel comfortable or even know if this is headed anywhere (or if I even want it to head somewhere) and the friend, who seemed very down-to-earth earlier when I heard her speak, seemed a little crazy in reality. Funny how that works.
Anyway, I just need to get through the next few weeks. Get the trip to Los Angeles over with (and no kiddies, I won't take a nostalgia trip to the Burgundy Room) and decide if my future lies in my past or not. Wow, I can pull a phrase out of my ass every now and then can't I?
I always wanted to be one of those guys who could play pool, bowl a little, walk into a room with a piano and play a little. But I'm not. I'm the guy in the shadows who looks like he might scratch you if you approach him. It's not who I am on the inside, but I know it's what gets sent to the outside world. Probably why I spend so much time trying to woo the stray cats I see in Riverside Park. I know where they're coming from.
OK, time for the Redskins to give me a heart attack.
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1 comment:
isn't ass a weird word? It's kind of a lame word, in that once you start saying 'my ass', you just can't stop. I don't know why that is. Bad habit. My brother asked my sister if the cookies she made were from scratch. Shs answered, "Yeah Vin, I scratched my ass."
Jackass, on the other hand is a great word.
As for the 19th wheel, I s'pose it beats feeling like the 19th hole which is really bad.
So drag ass to the finish line, you convinced a lot of people how much you love your job, those that don't know about The Rambler. OK, You aren't in the poor house, you've met some wimin, albeit stray cats, played a hand of gin with Ol' Dad, and you don't scratch your ass in public. Onward and ass backwards!!
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