Seasoned Greetings


I had to text my daughter this morning and say, “Hey, I can’t buy you that bass for Xmas. I don’t want you to think that’s why I’m asking so many questions.” She said, she knows and it is something she thinks she should do for herself. That sounds like something she would say, but where did she learn it? She wants a Rickenbacker which is a pretty cool guitar. They are expensive though. She wants the one her favorite bass player has but we couldn’t figure out if he has a new one or an old one from watching the videos. I did some investigating and the new ones are better quality and more technologically advanced. For some reason you can get a new one a thousand dollars cheaper. I know the reason. It’s because the old ones are “vintage.” I am trying to tell her the new one is a better guitar. I talked to a person online who has owned both and he told me what he thinks. Plus, they don’t make a new one until someone orders it. I was the same way when I was a kid. I had to have the “vintage” Fender but later in life I bought a cheap knock off that I liked better than the “cool” one. I think she will go with a new one because it is her money she will be spending when she has enough. She said she doesn’t have to get the exact one, she just wants one like his. Anyway, her Christmas present will be a laptop she can use for school. (Don’t tell her I told you!)

I was right to yell at my doctor maniacally last week. He told me to make a phone appointment for Thursday and he would have an answer. Today my case manager suddenly texted me saying she is working on getting a clear answer. That is funny because it is a question she has been pretending I didn’t ask once a month for the past four months. It is the only thing I have asked them for and I asked it directly each time.

Reader Warning!: This may be my longest journal post yet. It is already verbose and I know I am manic. I thought I was but I don’t see many people due to the Covid isolation. When I do see or talk or type to another person I am rambling at a fast pace. You’ll get the idea. It’s only Monday and I am already down to here!


December 8th 2020: Oh no! My daughter’s favorite bass player is in the band Zig Mentality. Their album is called, “THE SESH.” I asked her is she knows what a sesh (Or session) is all about. She said no but her mom says yes. If you don’t know then watch the video called, “SESH ON.” It will show you all you need to know. They are a really good band if you like old fashioned Rock/Punk played by some youngsters.

My grandfather just called me said he got a call from someone saying it was me in jail and wanted him to send money for bail. He’s in his 90’s but still pretty sharp and asked the guy some questions to find out it wasn’t me. He was calling me just to warn me and to be sure. I have never heard of that scam before but he said they also tried it with another of his grandkids. I’ve gotten scam texts from “women” saying if I go to Walmart and buy them a gift card they will come visit me and do whatever I want sexually. I pretend I believe them and waste their time by asking a lot of stupid questions they can’t answer. Then when I get bored I tell them to fuck off!

Talk about synchronicity. I haven’t had to skip a song on my iPod in two days. (About 6 hours) Every song is good. My iPod is very old. If I skip a song like Alice in Chains because the song is too depressing for the day, it will think, maybe he wants to hear every song on this album in the next two hours.


December 9th 2020: My brother just got mad at my poor mother for spending an extra dollar on Clorox bleach instead of the cheaper bleach. She uses it to clean his shit caked tighty whities! Believe me, I’m not talking about a little racing stripe. He looks like he did a 7 day no wipe challenge! I saw them last Christmas when I was there. Right in the doorway to his room. Like, good morning! Merry Christmas! Look at my feces covered underwear turned inside out on my bedroom floor! I don’t know what he was saving them for? I would be hiding those things in a garbage bag and throwing them outside in the barrel. I would be embarrassed. Apparently they think it is some kind of joke. It made me want to choke! Thinking about it now makes me gag a little.

My brother can’t control my life now that I don’t live with him anymore. With me he did it through investigating my computer and phone and taking actions based on what he saw. With my mom it is financial control. Even when it comes to her own money. She does the shopping and he wants her to go to two different stores to make sure she doesn’t spend extra on any one item. She told me if she buys something for herself she hides the receipts and has to conceal the item in the trunk of her car until he is out of the house! She doesn’t buy things for herself. She buys little gifts for my daughter, her brothers, etc… I’m talking about a small handful of dollars and it’s her money! WTF?

Now that I am gone he can’t investigate me so he is terrorizing my mom. He is quite frugal but that is not the reason for this abuse. It is the control issue. He gets off on having control. He masturbates to it before he goes to sleep. And I’m the crazy one in the family!? It is no small wonder I don’t want to go there for the holidays. This year I have the Covid excuse. I don’t have to visit.

To finish, he is so extreme in his cheapness, he has not even bought a Christmas or birthday card for my daughter in her life. I’m not expecting him to buy her expensive gifts, but wtf? It is his only niece and I won’t have any more children. He won’t have any kids because he is afraid of women. Not once when I still lived with him or since I left has he asked how she is doing. It’s like she doesn’t exist. He is a total piece of shit. That is the end of my rant. I could go on and in fact I did in an earlier blog post. I just don’t want to go back and read it again. This is what I think of when I think of my family during the holiday season. My mom gets upset when I refuse an invitation to thanksgiving but fuck it. I’m not spending four days with that asshole. He is completely spurious! In all definitions. Bastard!

I am definitely picking up the pace. I just wrote a blog post for later this morning (Wed.) and another I scheduled for Sunday. (Probably tomorrow. Stay tuned, it is a good one.)


When I went on POF after Thanksgiving weekend I sent out a few messages and only got a couple returned. One was a woman who lives in the next state over. It was 3am Sunday so I asked her, “what are you doing up so late on a school night?”. We texted for a little and then she asked if she could call me because she wanted to hear my voice. That is very unusual for someone 35 and under so I said yes. She called me and she liked my voice. We talked for a while and she told me to text her when I woke up and we would set something up. I texted her the next day and got a text back from her saying she is in the middle of a family emergency and couldn’t talk. I really thought it was strange someone in the middle of a family emergency would take the time to text that to some stranger she met online the night before. I figured she was blowing me off so I didn’t save her to my contacts. The next Sunday I got a text from 207 area code and all it said was, “My mom died.” I thought someone was pulling a scam on me cause I couldn’t remember who had a 207 area code. I said, “I’m sorry to hear that.” And she kept texting me and luckily it clicked in my slow brain who she was. She lives like an hour north. We talked about her mom and how we both had people in our families who were married for 40 years and died almost exactly a year apart. Then she changed the subject to sex and asked if I still wanted to hook up, she needed a “distraction.” Then she asked me where I live and I told her and never heard from her again. I guess I live to far away. I deleted her number from my text list but I will always remember where 207 is from. She has Monday’s off so I am waiting to see what happens this Sunday. I’m still not going on that dating site probably for another 6 months when I forget how terrible it is.


The two guys I used to drive down to the job with loved Howard Stern. It was horrible. His microphone was louder than the other people in the studio so they would crank the radio to hear them all. I would be lying in the back seat of the crew cab with the speaker pounding right next to my fucking head! Nothing they said was funny.

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