live tv.

maybe it’s because i’m from the south, but i can’t go a day without iced tea.

tea isn’t one of those things that you can get right the first hundred times you make it. no… it’s complicated. there’s a method to it. i’ve tried everything… warming the water in the microwave, using the different types of tea bags (ha… i said tea bag), different water, sugar substitutes, and on and on…

after almost ten years of trying, i’ve finally found my flavor.

it started the first year of acl fest… the only vendor that sold tea is a small company out of austin called “sweat leef”. cool name, huh… well, these guys make amazing tea, and the reason i make such a bold statement about said tea is simple. in hundred degree texas heat, if you drink anything other than amazing tea, you would know it. i mean, your body is parched… you’ve walked half a mile to the food area, fighting a hundred thousand stinky people for one thing - iced tea. the first sip is crucial… if there isn’t that immediate satisfaction, if there is bitterness in it’s bite, if it’s to sweet or not sweet enough… well, you’ve wasted a trip.

but sweat leaf is the shit each and every time. a perfect blend of tea leaves, water and sugar.

and there started my search… how do i get that taste?

i would give up for years at a time… tired of failing…

until i decided to use something that sara had gotten years a go… a tea kettle. is that’s what it’s called? i could google it, but i won’t… i’ll just go with tea kettle.

so, it’s been sitting on our stove for almost our entire marriage. she’s used it a few time, but mostly it sat there untouched.

one day, i decided to use store bought water, and double the amount of tea bags that i would normally use… but instead of using the microve to warm the water, i would use the kettle. and instead of using sweet and low or splenda, i would turn to regular old sugar. i increased the amount of sugar just a bit, and used store bought ice in a real glass glass.

holy shit…

amazing…

i told sara that i would put it up against anything store bought any day… i believe in my tea.

i’ve been trying to work through some of the acl fest acts. my recommendation this week is easy. JJ Grey & Mofro. it’s a colaboration group… it’s a modern twist on southern blues, southern rockabilly, and souther soul. yeah, it’s southern to the core. but, not so much that it alienates other listeners who may not be into the southern thing. it has meaning, and heart… it has poppy lyrical hooks, and a muted horn section. it’s lively without beating you up.

staples are out… i’m on the mend.

you have died.

i’m still watching big brother eight.

this is the eighth summer that i’ve given up friends and family so i could sit at the computer, or watch it on tv, or read the message boards following these people trapped in a house. it brings out the voyeur in me, i guess. every year it starts around sara’s birthday, and lasts until i physically can’t stand it anymore. the lies… the backstabbing… the random boob shots. it’s just freaky.

it’s nice to see the familiar faces popping in here. i’ll eventually update this place… but, right now it’s just about learning to type again.

i like noel’s stringy hair.

i like sara’s smell on the blanket.

i like clay’s long legs.

i like mazzie being here and not at her friends.

i like being married, and being a dad.

i wanted to go watch my favorite band play at the bar right down the road last nite… but, i stayed in. for some reason, my gut hurts… oh yeah, surgery.

i don’t like poop talk.

i don’t like fake.

i don’t like using dirty words to make yourself look cool.

i don’t like boiled eggs.

my back hurts from being on my ass all week.

i hum fake plastic trees as she walks by. it’s not so much plastic, or trees for that matter that makes me hum… no, it’s fake. so very fake and full of fakeness. she pushes a cart full of fakeness to the counter where she’ll pull out the plastic and pay for the realness of her family. but, it’s all very fake… so very fake.

i can’t remember if she flashed a fake smile or even looked at me when she walked by… i’m sure she must have seen the me that i’ve always been and the me that loved so much, i’m sure she could have at least seen a little of me… but i can’t remember because fake is very hard to look at.

airlife

drugs are nice.

not in the i’ll suck a dick for a rock kind of way… but in the chill on the couch with your gut split open so you should at least be able to get high kind of way.

yeah… i had surgery. it went fast and it was a little more painful than i thought it would be. sara has been an angel. she hasn’t complained when i ask her for the same things over and over each day. she apologizes to me when i act like a dick. she is perfect.

i’ve put some newer pics up… these people are my 3d life now. i looked at sara last nite as i was putting them on and we smiled, both thinking the same thing - life is good.

i can’t get the new beastie boys album out of my head. these guys are the essential cool.

god, look at sara again… i smile every time i look at her.

i’m making my rounds again… but, i got some dead end links. where is everyone?

world 1-1

sara is sitting next to me playing mario. the old one that you can download if you have a wii… we have one. a wii. it connects to our wireless router and you buy wii points, and for some five hundred wii points you can then download all the old games. like the one sara is playing now. old ass super mario that was made for nes system. i never had the nes. i wasn’t much of a gamer because i was waiting for it to become “more realistic”. i guess i’m still that way.

she’s twitching. and breathing deeply through her teeth as she completes one level after another. the familiar pangs of mario’s world. she just grabbed a star which means that she can run head on into those menacing turtles. and geese. and man eating flowers… i think.

the music keeps her going. i mean, it’s late. we should be watching big brother eight on showtime… but, we aren’t. she more than contect sitting here on the living room floor, playing the kids wii.

i go under the knife monday morning at seven am. hernia surgery. don’t mind me… i’m just being dramatic, which i am oh so good at.

she died in hell. sara. in mario land.

love to all.

take a blast.

damn…

that was a long time.

sorry about that. not that anyone will read this… hopefully i’m still on a newsfeed somewhere.

i’ve been on a self-imposed hiatus. i could have checked up on this place, but i chose not to. i needed to forget about everything for a while. work was getting to be stressful, and the pangs of not seeing the family for weeks at a time made me want to turn inward. i needed the quiet of my own thoughts… i needed to self satisfy.

it’s been busy though… i have a new truck - ford f250 diesel…a new travel trailer - a 5th wheel that i adore… sara has a new car that she hates - a toyota corolla. and after a year on the road, i’m home for a while. i’ll be working about 20 minutes away from the house.

nothing thrills me more that to be here… at home. to see the kids smeared with peanut butter and to hear sara gripe because i’m to damn lazy sometimes.

and i’m a bit nervous too. after a year of always living away from home, they have their routine and i have mine. it will be fine, i just need to relax, and help out as much as i can.

i’m down to 217 lbs. when i left new orleans, i weighed 255. i’ve got 17 lbs left before i hit my main goal of an even 200. i made that goal last september when i couldn’t walk a mile without having a heart attack. i feel so different now… yet, i’m still no where near the weight i want to be.

so, i’ve made a second goal… and i’ll announce it here first. 190 lbs by my birthday… december 10.

that’s 27 lbs away from right now…

okay… i have some work to do around here… but, i will make an earnest attempt at posting each day. i have some things i need to say. and… i miss you guys. i’m curious to find out where everyone is…

all this and a bag of peanuts.

smart board

sorry for the absence… it wasn’t because i “wanted” to be away… it’s because i have no time.

basically, every second of my day is either spent working or going to school. i work too much… but, it’s necessary right now. what i’m learning now will pay off.

oh, and i don’t have a computer worth a damn. i actually bought a new laptop… a blingy looking hp that could rival that new prada cell phone. but, i couldn’t keep it from sara. that old ass monster towered computer she was using was on it’s last leg.

so… she has my our new laptop. it’s okay… really. i don’t mind. i mean… i can’t make one good computer out of the two that sit in my travel trailer, but when do i have time to use either?

someday soon, i’ll drive over to circuit city or best buy and get one. just not this month.

we bought our yearly acl fest tickets. we’ve confirmed out stay at our friends house in austin. i’m on pins and needles. it can’t come soon enough. it’s been leaked that the lineup would include amos lee, modest mouse, and bob dylan. i’m down for whatever.

don’t know if i’ve told you guys… but, i’ve been diagnosed with sleep apnea. i’ve been struggling against it for a few years and finally sara convinced me to get it checked out. god, what a difference a breathing machine makes. before, i slept like shit… constantly waking up only to fall asleep at the drop of a hat. i hadn’t slept a full 8 hours in forever.

now… i sleep 7-8 hours without fail. my enegy level is unbelievable, and i don’t fall asleep while driving. sure, the nose mask and hose is about as appealing as a corpse… but, the quality of life i’ll have while awake makes it all worth it.

this is my last week of school… i’m taking the summer off to concentrate on work. i need the summers sun and the love of my family for a while.

missyou!

liquid smoke.

i was reminded today of how much this place is real. that the images of you are placed gently somewhere in my frontal lobe. i draw on them, penciling in my own shadowed features next to yours.

i spend too much time at work, wondering if and when we will meet… and if you will think i’m cucumber cool.

jason still owes me a pint.

edge owes me a road trip.

shane owes me a bloody hand shake.

kelli owes me a renfest.

sha owes me a tim hortons.

leen owes me a blues show.

ed owes me a spot of tea.

patty owes me a trip down the pch.

nan owes me my first candian snowball.

lisa owes me a boob shot.

alma owes me a six pack and a long conversation.

clare owes me an invitation. 

pete owes me a sweet smile.

just a thought.

i am happy. i am…

seriously.

original creole.

sue asked in the last post if we’ve ever had clay tested for dyslexia… is that spelled right? eh, i think… anywho… just wanted to tell sue that it would take so much more to ever get on my bad side, lol… and her comment really made me think.

i guess i’m a little hesitant to let my kids get “looked over” by a community of docs who have been so willing to chemically alter kids brains. my nephew, who is a bit hyper, was diagnosed with a.d.d. and therefore needs “medicine” that makes him a zombie.

i won’t do that to my kids.

i don’t think that we’ve ever thought of clay as dyslexic. he reads really well, is a wiz in math and science, and can write really well.

i guess we could look into it though… and thanks for reading, sue!

i want to take sara out this weekend. we need it, and i want to see her smile. her laugh washes over me and clears out all the toxins of the job site. all the motherfuckers and cocksuckers. i need normal for a while.

love you all.

zone alarm.

my trailer is clean… and smells of rain.

i have low carb energy drink in front of me that i’ve yet to open, and i can’t exactly remember why i bought it. a lack of said energy? no… i think because it said “lo-carb”.

i’ve lost a guestimated 27 lbs. i returned from new orleans at a very stretched 255… yesterday at the docs office, i managed an even 230. discount the clothes and shit stored inside my bowels, and i’m somewhere in the 228 range.

my miracle diet?

less food, especially rice, potatoes, and bread. almost no soft drinks, only a mandatory diet coke once a week. and i move around more. you know… like walking and stuff.

fucking insane, isn’t it?

i will reach 200lbs by september.

i think sara is going to home-school clayton. he’s been falling behind socially, and it may or may not affect his ability to remember to write his homework down. so, he’s spent more time in recess detention than swinging on swings… he’s constantly in after school detention detention because of homework issues.

and somehow our lovely school district can’t help him. he isn’t the same as the other 99 percent of the class, so we’ll just put him in detention. nevermind that his scores are above normal when he does do the work… nevermind that he is extremely gifted in math and science. he doesn’t write his homework assignments down, and he spends most of his time in detention.

fucking assholes.

the thing is… sara volunteers for his grade, so she is up there with him twice a week. she makes fucking copies for the teachers that are putting our son in detention week after week. she has had countless meetings with these dumpasses who just can’t seem to figure out why our son has this problem…

oh, it’s okay for them to forget to remind him of his homework, but it isn’t okay for a nine year old boy to fucking forget. and it’s okay for them to forget to tell sara the two days a week she’s up there doing all their shit work for free that our son is having a problem, but it isn’t okay if clay forgets to bring home the book that he was supposed to read.

we have grounded him… limited his free time… expanded his free time… took away the playstation… rewarded him with new games… we have done everything to help him, but when he walks through the doors at school, he is out of our control.

no matter how interested we are, the teachers don’t have time to fool with someone like him.

he is missing something when it comes to task completion.

but i’m not going to subject my kid to a school curriculum that just isn’t working. i’m not going to just sit casually by and hope that he “picks it up…” i refuse to pop a pill in his mouth and hope that his chemically altered brain will now concentrate.

because he is a smart little dude. probably too smart.

and this time, we aren’t just going to wait it out while his classmates move ahead socially, and he’s stuck in fucking pseudo-solitary confinement.

i’ve spit in my palm…

damn it feels good to be a gangster.