Fleet

Losing someone is a hard thing. I can understand loss when there is a defining reason. The growing apart when an interest of a friend goes to something else. One of my best friends is now technically married. Its weird to call him one of my best friends. I haven't felt like he has been for many months now. I see him less and less. A few months ago his wife got an apartment. He has stayed here at our house maybe 5 times since then. I think I've seen him about 9 times for no longer than 10 minutes each time. Seeing a life disappear off your map and going to a new set of friends confuses me. We don't really fight unless one of us actually does something stupid or neglectful.

One day when he was at home for a longer period of time we were hanging out. All three of us in the house were watching TV. The episode of Grey's Anatomy ended. My girl roommate ran into her room as her usual unknown reason of going in her room every ten minutes. I was just sitting on the couch with him. I decided to get dress and he was wondering around the house. I saw him going out the door as I was dressed and asked where he was going. He said he was heading to this chinese place we have eaten at a few times. I knew I shouldn't spend money, but I wanted to hang out and just talk, so I asked if I could join him. His reply was a sarcastic laugh with a mumble of words you couldn't understand. He shut the door and left. We planned on getting friendship tattoos together for a long time. I text him one night saying that I wanted to get one for him and I as a birthday present. His answer was neither yes or no, just we will see or something like that.

I barely make an effort anymore. It hurts to know that he makes no effort at all. The only thing he has wanted to talk to me about is my faith and how he wants to know about it. That talk I doubt will happen. I feel as if when he gets his answers he wants he will leave and really never talk to me again. I can't remember the last time he asked me to hang out.

1.5 Years Later

The blogger in me died, resurrected, went to Tumblr, and realized its just a bunch of pictures. I've done a few things since then:

• Got into my first serious relationship
• Toured in Boxing Day around the West Coast
• Moved out of my parent's house and into an expensive apartment
• Moved out out of the apartment and into a Punk House
• Gave my life back to Christ
• Ended my first relationship
• Moved out of the Punk House
• Made too many mistakes
• Worked at Starbucks and wanted to kill myself
• Quit Starbucks for Relevant Magazine
• Got screwed out of my last semester in Community College
• Fell in love with a girl in another country
• Got a second job at Pita Pit
• Flew to Guatemala to see a girl for 4 days
• Lost a social life to the 7 day work week

I'm loving every minute of this current life I'm living. Currently earning money to get a work visa for Guatemala as well living there for a few years. This is me chasing after a woman.

Such A Bother

I need a vacation. You know that point when you hear someones voice and become instantly annoyed? When you see someone or something and you are instantly in a bad mood? I've hit those walls. This even happens when the tone is inviting and there is something to benifit you in the sentence.

Many people don't know this, but I'm easily annoyed. I can count on one hand the amount of people that rarely annoy me. Almost everything loud puts me in a very upsetting mood. This includes motorcycles*, TVs, yelling, screaming, car horns* clapping, dumb sounding laughs*, banging, sexual banging, and just about anything you could think fall into or somehwhere around those catagories. I think the thing that pisses me off the most is when you ask someone, to help them if I might add, a question and you know they are listening to you, but they refuse to answer. I deal with this daily. I know I work at Winn Dixie and that is to be expected. I just assume that every customer is a mute until they answer me, that way I don't get so angry. I have to deal with this situation outside of work everyday and it makes me want to bang my head against a brick wall.

A headache is a way better than the silence I would hear. The creaking of my skull against brick would be a melody to my ears in comparision. The car that hit my on my bicycle a week or so ago, I'd rather have that kill me or put me in the hospital than have to face the answer of silence to my question.

I would love to go back to Guatemala and travel to Pana just to get that $5 hotel again. I would use that money very wisely, by laying down and just enjoying the silence and the rain fall and the forigen languages.

Hesitation Equals Death

I popped a tube on my way home from school today. I have about a 3 hour window til I had to go to work. I did my usual do nothing before I actually did have to go to work. Within that time I did actually do nothing and forgot to change my tube. When I was getting ready for work I realized this. I scrambled to get my tube changed like a pit crew at a NASCAR race. I got dressed and went out the door knowing I was going to have to book it extra hard to get to work on time.

There is a slight hill on 17-92 going down on my way to work where I can get some good speed. I just passed Barn Hills, aka the most disgusting place I've ever eaten or been to in my life, when a white Grand Caravan went past me. There was an older couple in the vehicle pulling into some parking lot. I'm not sure what the store they were going to was though. Anyway, the man who was driving came to a halt to turn into the parking lot when he saw me coming at a good speed and almost directly behind him. He did a slight hesitant turn to the right as to pull in, but stopped and then decided to gun it in the parking lot. His effort was in vein as I was already to his immediate right.

I find it amazing how fast the brain can process something. You can take one look, just long enough to blink and information is sent to every part of the body on what to do before you even know to think about it. Well, I knew I was going to be hit by this van at this point. So many things went through my mind; the crash , what would happen to me, my bike, thinking about fun things I've done with my friends, people I've never talked to, but just seen in a hallway, and at the same time I felt like nothing when through my head. I consider that my life flashing before my eyes.

I felt my front wheel hit the passenger side of the van and my body being trusted forward. I had my right hand on my break trying to evade the situation, but it was no use. I didn't think to do this, but I guess as a bodily reflex to live I put my left hand out and planted it on the van. From there I pushed as hard as I could to keep my face from smacking into the vehicle. Somehow that actually seemed to work and I was able to throw myself off of my bike. I got my left leg a little caught up in my pedal, but I was able to run off the entire crash. I ran off the crash. I went through what had just happened in my head a thousand times, as I put my hands on my hips, exhaled slowly, and turned around to see the damage.

I figured my bike was completely run over at this point. I figured I wasn't going to be going to work that day. I thought about how scared my mom was going to be when I told her what had happened. I thought about everything, but at the same time nothing really registered in my mind. I felt like everything was not there and everything like me sitting at home watching this on television.

The old couple had actually not run over my bike and got out of the car to ask if I was alright. I was fine, or what seemed to be fine. I removed my bike from underneath their car to see the wreckage. The couple then parked their car and assessed their damage quickly. They went over to me asking if I was alright repeatedly and if they should call an ambulance. I replied with I'm fine I just need to fixed my bike. As I went to adjust my stem to line up the steering I asked them if they were alright. I figured they were since they were in a van, but hell I could have given them a heart attack. The man said they were both fine and just continued to worry about me.

I stood up only to shake the man's hand and to tell him thank you for stopping to see if I was alright. They didn't really have an option because they were at their point of destination. I then left without a name, a number, or anything. I didn't care about a settlement for money, or how much I could get out of them for a new bike. I didn't think about that at all. I was in such a complete daze to everything. I laughed off some of it on my ride to work, that is until I realized my front tire was going flat. It was the same tired I had change just 5 minutes before the accident. I made it to work and I called my mom. She freaked out to say the least, but I assured her I was alright.

Shock was the worst part of this whole ordeal. For the next two or three hours I was walking around feeling confused, but I knew what was going on. I felt like everything I was doing wasn't real and wasn't happened. It was kinda like you knew you were dreaming and decided to do whatever. I thought about a lot of things, but nothing seemed to register and stick. I thought about so many things and the accident so much I got a headache.

I'm A Traitor

I switched back to my single speed free wheel. No more fixed gear for a while.

To Be

Alone.
Thats something I'm wanting right now.
Just fill a backpack and ride away on my bike.
I don't know where I'll sleep or what I'll eat.
I feel like this a lot.
Like I need to do this someday.
Maybe more than once.
I hate being tame.
Is this a coming of man instinct I have?
No freinds.
No phones.
No lovers.
No computers.
No parents.
No teachers.
No one, but me.
It would be nice to go somewhere where I can't name one person.
I'd leave a note, so they wont worry for my death so much.
I don't care where and I have no reason why.
I just want solitude for a minute.
A month.
A year.
Why?
Is it so I can know what its like to really be loved and known?
I doubt it.
Is it to cherish what I have and own?
Most likely not.
Sometimes I just want to be alone.
Not in my room.
Not in my town.
And maybe not this state.
Maybe I'm trying to find God or maybe just myself.
But this is what I want.
Just to leave.
Maybe for just and hour.
Or a year.
I don't care.
I just need it.

A Poem A Song A Story

A cup of sacred blood
Washed down with a bottle of cheer
She's just hiding
From nights of wasted time
You can't leave because of the fear
There's no talking
At least not here
God cut her in half like he did with Jerusalem
A song from the heart
She believed it from the start
She's just claiming
The strife in her mind
She believes nows the right time
Cause shes been lying
God cut her in half life he did with Jersusalem
No
God cut me in half like he did with Jerusalem

'Bout time

Matt Label is a new kind of genius. The kind that thinks something is so funny before he can even get it down on paper. That is what happened when Matt decided to draw me. From the top of my bike hat to the tip of my scooter. I actually rode one this past weekend, but thats besides the point. I love the "Cowa bunga" reference. Last week consisted of us repeating "10 years ago" in a horrible Matster Splinter voice. The amount of lawn like leg hair is in great detail and sub-humanly correct. Yes, the Sub-Humans. The Volume 33 is a mystery to me, unless there are 32 other drawings of me floating around. Which would be creepy, but awesome. My "Vegan 4L" tattoo doesn't actually exist, however I am now debating on geting it when Matt drew it. I can't get over the "Jay Leno Chin." Its far too great and I should have one in reality. I've never warn a fanny pack, but I see that they are in fashion. I should get one to be cool. I thought my left left was broke to the side, but apparently I am "getting air" and kicking my legs out? All without the slightest bit of amusment as we see in my face. I haven't ever been able to draw something so good in my life. that is unless you count the Anhinga I drew for jessica Reddy last year. It was a masterpiece.

Thank you Matt Label. Your drawing it wonderful.
I don't know if I spelt your name right, but shit man I tried.

Man-oh-man

I had a tear roll down my face the other day. I haven't had that happen in at least six years. I'm not going to tell you my sad story of why I can't cry, but of something beautiful that caused that single tear to emerge from my right eye.



I'm a big fan of Current TV. I thank and love my girlfriend Michelle for showing it to me. The channel has some of the best stories of struggles in the US and around the world. Racial, poverty, the good, and the bad, all on one channel.



I flipped on the channel to do my usual watching. An hour long segment of the Gay Rights battle in the US was on. I am a very big supporter in the Gay Rights movement, it was a must to watch. I had never really watched much on TV about the struggle. This was mainly due to the fact I had no idea of this station and it wasn't covered to keep my interest on others.



I watched every minute of each states struggle to get the rights that gay and lesbian couples deserve. I saw the Christians, Muslims, Jews, and every other protester out there with their signs. "God Hates Fags" and everything else. I grew extremely outraged when I saw these. As usual in TV the "Happy part" came to calm the supporters down. It showed many gay and lesbian couples going and getting their marriage licenses in Massachusetts. It was followed by other couples' stories and getting their licenses in the states that failed to pass the gay marriage ban. At the end it added the defeats that Gay Rights had in the last election, but hope for a better tomorrow.

Seeing the look on these couples faces was seriously incredible. If anyone ever doubts that they are in love, and think that attraction between same genders is impractical, you are dead wrong. After all what do we know about love anyway? Love can not be explained in any way shape or form. No book can write the words of love, but you feel it. The idea of gay marriage is not to tarnish the very foundations of marriage, but to have almost all the same rights as married couples. Gay and lesbian couples cannot get out of work if a lover is dying. I find that to be the worst among the rights they don't have. The state wont recognize their love. What devastation that would bring if it ever happened to me. I thought about what it like to have that same scenario play with my girlfriend Michelle and I. That right there was what made me shed a tear.

Now the last time I checked this was a country that had separation of Church and State. The people across the United States fail to realize this. They can't swallow their religious pride long enough to see that this is a constitutional right. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't one of the 10 Commandments "Obey the law of the land?" If this is certainly a constitutional right then why is this happening? They just want rights not the blessing or the tarnishing of any God or gods.

Two more things I'd like to share on this rant:

1) I made a promise to myself a while ago that if gay and lesbian couples cannot have the same rights I can, then I choose not to have them. Once all 50 states have a civil union or gay marriage of some kind, I will consider being married.

2) A friend of mine made fun of this vow I have taken. His exact words were "Why would you want to do that, gay people are pretty much everything bad in the world." I can't tell you how much ignorance and disgustingness is in that sentence. By his God's way all sin is punishable by death. There is no scale of sin you are put on. Your either a sinner or Jesus/God.

Fin.

Oddity

I find it odd that some of my good freinds and I are in some pretty shitty times. I don't know their situations very well, but i know enough to know they are not well.

To relieve some of this depression I guess I'll spill out what is going on with me. Its just small things that have been building.

1) My computer broke and its going to cost a lot to fix it.
2) I got new tires and tubes for my bike. My step dad's tire pressure guage is broken and I exploded my new tubes.
3) My best friends have been on tour for the past 3 months.
4) My relationship with my step dad is good when we don't talk. Yesterday he blew up on me because I used up the shaving cream (I ment to put another can in the bathroom) and bbq sauce (Which I didn't use up. I've been in a hot sauce rage).
5) Tonight my light fell of my bike on my way home from work. When I went to go get it a car ran it over.
6) I've had a really bad kink in my neck all day which has enabled me to turn my head right.
7) 1/3 of our freezer section at work broke. I spent all night and part of the morning taking everything out and putting it in the big freezer.
8) I haven't done much, but get up and go to work.
9) I've become apart of the American Debt Society by taking out a student loan.
10) The only person I spill my heart out to has been in India for two weeks. I haven't been able to talk to her.

I don't know. I'm depressed. Hopefully I'll snap out of it by tomorrow morning like usual. God hates me.

Reference

Yes a reference. This is a reference post, but to what you may ask? Well in the late hours of a Florida day I put up a post on Facebook. I don't remember quite what I said, but it was something about toasting a Cliff Bar. Thus this idea stuck in my mind for days, until I finally got one at a gas station on my way home Saturday night.

Here is the story unfolding...


The story begins at about 1am Saturday night at Nathan Walters' house. As you can see here, the crunchy peanut butter Cliff Bar was about to meet its toasty friend... the toaster!


The Cliff Bar began toasting in the toaster as seen above. I cannot tell you why the toast is a neon green in this. It may be because the light socket behind it was neon green, but what the hell do I know? This was a daring move for me. I mean come on Cliff Bars are not exactly cheap, but they sure as hell are good. Did I ruin it? Did I toast it? Did I lose it forever?


Rule #1) Do not put a Cliff Bar in a conventional toaster. A toaster oven or microwave maybe, but not an upright "I pop up when I'm done" toaster. It was hell trying to get it out of there. The Cliff Bar started to melt rather than become crispy like I had hoped it would. Part of the bar had stuck to the bottom of the toaster. Very inconvenient. Never the less the eat was good. Chris Kee found the taste to be bad for some reason. Hey, I thought it tasted like hot crunchy peanut butter that had some melting going on. Then again, what the hell do I know?


But before the Cliff Bar made its last endeavor into my stomach, we decided to be immature 19 year olds (With the exception of Nathan who is 17). By golly we turned that Cliff Bar into what any teenage this decade would do. That is turn it into a reference of a piece of hot shit. I swear I make more references to a piece of poop than most people actually take one. As you can see Chris put in his thumbs up as a sign of approval so that young children may read and/or see these pictures.

This ones for you toasted, but melted Cliff Bar/ imitation piece of hot shit. I finish my glass of orange juice for you. For you brought Chris, Nathan, and I a good five minutes of joy.

Tales From the Dairy Case

So I have been working for Winn Dixie in the grocery department for almost a year now. There are horror stories and lore of magic going down in that little store. However, one story continues to rest itself every time I work. No, not Deja Vous, but a sick twisted mind that is oh so cleaver.

I call the person the Gustafson!

Everyday I come in I find an empty to a "one last sip to go" bottle of Gustafson's chololate milk. The bottle is about 16oz in weight, give or take an overload or error.


Now I don't mind that the person is stealing some chocolate milk. I mean come on, chocolate milk is pretty awesome. It combines two of the most sacred things: Milk (A common household beverage) and Chocolate (A plague of sweetness in your mouth that may or may not bring sexual arousal-ness).

What I care about is that its GUSTAFSON'S MILK!!!!! Have you seen the picture on the bottle!?!?! Its mad! Please excuse my picture taken from my phone, it does not take the sheer terror into focus.

See the rather plump older gentlemen behind his wife in the seal. The man's face reads "I beat my wife with a baseball bat of money, while drinking my own fatty milk!" Then the wife, so skinny and unhappy to the eye of the beholder. Then if you take a detour out of the seal you see the cattle from which the milk comes from. Yes yes, we see it now. Get your best cow in the picture! All the others are too week to stand from being underfed! Maybe thats why the milk tastes so darn rich? Its not vitamin D added, but malnurisment added!

But hey I could be wrong. Heck, I haven't had that kind of milk in years. Since I have gone vegan, I don't even remember what milk really tastes like.

On a sour note ending, "Up yours Mr. Gustafson!"

Lies to Flush

Since I've been home from Guatemala I haven't done much. I went and saw Trash Talk play the day after I got home. That was a good welcome home for me anyway. Other than that I've been working like crazy.

I put my convincing lies to the test and called Tommy Cantwell. I told him that I went sky diving a few days ago. now the only way to make this story true is by adding shit into the conversation. So I said

Instructer- You ready to go?

Me- No!

Instructer- What? Go? Okay!

Then I told him I got so scared that I shit my pants a little bit froma ll the adrenaline I was experiencing from the jump. Tommy believed me haha.

Here is a drawing of the happy moments of working at Winn Dixie/ Dirty Dixie/ Winn DickMe... enjoy.

In other news, I should be buying some mustache handlebars for my fixed gear soon. They look comfortable and I figured I would try them out. With that being said I believe I should grow out my handlebar mustache I had the beginning on senior year in high school.

The steps I will take:

http://www.ehow.com/how_2070325_grow-handlebar-mustache.html

Under The Rock

Well I've been back from Guatemala for almost two weeks now. The last weekend there destroyed everything inside of my bowels. I am still feeling a little bit of the affects of the pasta.

*Note to everyone: Never eat pasta in Central America

I'd draw something or write more, but I am far to lazy.

Its my day off.

Oh Lando

Chris and I decided to make a trek to Orlando. The last time we did this via bicycle was back in December for TIFY Fest. This trip was long overdue and we had yet to ride our fixies that far.
Chris and I took a breather just getting into Sanford. We took a long hard gander at the river below us. I contemplated jumping for the sheer joy of doing it. Chris would have liked to see me die.
This is Chris and I just getting into Longwood. We decided to stop here and talk each other out of suicide. If your not familiar with Longwood along 17-92 I'll tell you its pretty shitty. Not much to see and more broken bottles to avoid than redneck outing. The only thing keeping us alive were the nice smoothies we enjoyed in Lake Mary at Maui Smoothies. I had a peanut butter, chocolate, and banana smoothie. Chris had something with pomergantie if I remember correctly.
Chris and I ran in Mario while in either Casselberrry or Winter Park. We had to high tail it from some Koopa Troopas. They were lean, mean, green turtle shell hucking machines. I was suprised Mario could keep up with us while we were "fixing it" (lol) at about 30mph.
Chris and I had finally reached Orlando. It took us about 3 1/2 hours counting out breaks that we took. I don't think it was too bad on time either. We went to meet up with Dylan and Cy at Tijuana Flats. We were graced with the presents of some of their friends as well. There was a little secret passing going around the table to unveil a surprise. The secret was to all sing Morgan happy birthday. Chris twisted the version of the story to bash me like usual. He then corrected the secret being passed around the table. After Tijuana Flats we parted ways with Morgan and friends and headed to Dyland and Cy's house for some "alone time."
Chris is now contemplating plastic surgery to look like Bert of Sesame Street to get the ladies. I prefer to look like shit.

Lukes Favorite Thing

So this past weekend there was a vegan potluck before a Kingdom show in Daytona. I decided to whip up something nice for everyone.

I had a few bananas in the freezer that I was saving to make some banana bread. I converted to a vegan diet the that week, so I thought it was going to be a treat.

That night I gathered some supplies from work to make the bread. I found out the only thing I needed to buy was sugar that wasn't refined through bone char and applesauce. Along with that I got nutmeg, baking soda, and some wheat flour. I didn't need any of that. I need to open my eyes more in the cupboards.

I found a recipe online and began to make some bread. The first batch looked a little dry so I doubled the applesauce size. Still looked a little dry.

Once it came out it looked like this...

I made a huge mistake. This doesn't look good at all haha. My mother couldn't help just try a piece. She then spit it out and said it taste just like baking soda. My dyslexic eyes read 3/4 cup of baking soda instead of 3/4 teaspoon. I know... I'm an idiot.

I threw that thing away. It did take the nasty smell out of my garbage barrel. I was going to give it to Chris Kee as a joke, but I didn't feel like putting in my backpack and taking it to him.

I then made some more bread and did it the right way. It looked like this...

Holy shit, let me tell you, this was good as hell. I took it to Chris' house and then to the show. I asume it was good to everyone else since I only got a small piece of it.

The Hawk

So this blog will be continued as a crappy comic of events that happen to me. I'll point out the horrible things I draw and make fun of everything. I only will only do these with one shot, no wasting paper.


This past Wednesday I had to turn in a paper to my English teacher Dr. Hawkins. I do not like this woman. She should not be teaching. That is besides the point.


Dr. Hawkins began the class by collecting the papers we wrote. They were supposed to be at least 3 pages long. She drew closer to me and my friend Jessica Reddy rose from her seat. Her papers were un-stapled. Dr. Hawkins took a quick hawk like glare at the papers. She then burst out in a hungry hippo rage. She began to yell "For God sakes its the third month of school and you can't have your papers prepared before you come to class?" Dr. Hawkins then stormed out of the class room after throwing a yellow folder. Everyone in the class snickered and commented on her juevinile way of handling a simple problem. Dr. Hawkins emgered back into the class room with a stapler that she had taken from her office, just a two second walk from our class room. She then started to ramble on about having everything ready. I looked around the room to see that everyone was out in "La-La" land and ignoring her. My guess was that they were still giggling about how she got so worked up over un-stapled papers.


This is a math problem of what happend a few days ago.

Story Time

So I spent the night at my buddy Richards house one night. It happened to be extremely cold for this time of year. It was continually cold the next day. I was planning on riding my bike from his house to the DSC campus. His father offered me a ride about half way. I accepted his offer.

Once I was let out I began my trek down New York ave. I didn't have gloves so I decided to ride no hands and put them in my jacket pockets. This turned out to be a fatal mistake. If you know New York ave then you know its shitty. Its made like a bad sidewalk. Anyway my wheel went into a poorly filled crack and my weight shifted. This caused the front wheel to turn sideways. You might have guessed what happened next. I began to fly. Fly like a penguin that is. Lucky for me I got my hands out of my pockets in time to absorb some shock. I then rolled most of the fall out. My feet stayed inside my clips, so my bike went with me a ways. THe back wheel was then hit very hard on the ground. My rim was then bent slightly.

I arose from the fall in a "Whaowhatthefuck" fashion. I got my bike and continued on to school. I felt certain areas of my body hurt. Later I found out that my left forearm and shoulder were a little scratched. Somehow my left ankle was scratched near the Achillies tendon. My guess is it was the pedals that did the trick.

I arived at school late.

I got a ride to the bike shop to talk to BST (Bike Shop Teddy).

He fixed it the next day.

I ride with hands now (Well not all the time).

Two days off from work is awesome.

I hate family gatherings.

And Chris Kee.

And Charles Chaussinand.

Here is a hand drawn dramatization I made. I spent a long time drawing them. Even longer installing my step-dad's scanner. His computer was in the shop.

Looking

At schools to transfer to. Its a tight race between UF and FSU. I'm leaning on getting a masters in teaching anthropology in the sociocultural aspect. From that it looks like UF is has the lead. Only time will tell. I'd like to go to FSU though. I have friends there and kind of know the city. I haven't been to Gainsville in years. Anyway, education is key, not so much hanging out. I've got time.

In Other News