tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45664408063754514112024-03-12T21:07:06.392-06:00Dwayne's WorldLike it or don't...it's my world.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-3705035191832780352014-08-29T21:09:00.001-06:002014-08-29T21:09:46.631-06:00MuggedI've been posting various items over the past 2 week hinting that something nefarious happened to me recently and that I'd eventually write about it. Well, something nefarious did happen, and I'm still dealing with the repercussions. These repercussions aren't just the physical and financial, but the emotional as well. While I may smile and joke about it when speaking to others, it's still turmoil inside when I am alone in my head. Additionally, I have no desire or need for pity, and I figured an immediate post on my various social media outlets would seem like a cry for attention.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Night of the Attack</td></tr>
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It has been a little over a week, and I've had much time to ponder this little event, and in the big scheme of things, it was a little event. Now it's time to say my peace.<br />
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Last Sunday, after spending time with my sister, I came home, parked, and was heading to my apartment when 4 kids (around 16 or 17 years old) decided that they really needed my wallet and the contents of my pockets. A gun was shoved in my face, various threats on my life were made, and then I was hit in the face hard enough that a guy my size went down. My pockets were rummaged through and emptied, and I was left laying there bleeding from my nose and mouth. Yup. You guessed it. Your common, garden variety mugging.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">2 Days Later</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhCJG2YkhrVAbh5B8bzRQarYKYmvLNcGestlVlNt3dMN0OgV4DHAnZr07UGvpIxNIZ6cMPOitYaEHBAiehVK7uzVPCkAVQeSUU5jshSJSI8vJjH8HMlZYY6F-neQmeSls7QyJTAjHwcU/s1600/20140818_093645.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhCJG2YkhrVAbh5B8bzRQarYKYmvLNcGestlVlNt3dMN0OgV4DHAnZr07UGvpIxNIZ6cMPOitYaEHBAiehVK7uzVPCkAVQeSUU5jshSJSI8vJjH8HMlZYY6F-neQmeSls7QyJTAjHwcU/s1600/20140818_093645.jpg" height="200" width="112" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3 Days Leter</td></tr>
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I did what I was suppose to do. When they demanded my wallet, I gave it to them. No fighting. No mouthing off. Looking down the barrel of the cannon sized gun in my face had more or less frozen my tongue anyway. That, and that the only thought that was in my head was that I was never going to see my Fpitwww again. They felt the need to pop me in the eye anyway. At least it was with a fist and not a bullet. In the end, they got away with $20 and the keys to my car, though, for some reason, they didn't take the car.<br />
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After I gave my police report and the EMS checked me out, I started making all my calls to the credit card companies. It was nearly 4AM before I finally got to bed. Note: I didn't say sleep. I just lay there feeling more violated than any other time in my life. And though it has been almost 2 weeks, I am still angry and feeling violated beyond belief. Sure, it was just a black eye and a little roughing up. But I can't get that image of the gun in my face out of my head.<br />
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So far, this has cost me around $400 bucks to clean up. The eye is healing. The scrapes on my knees and hands are pretty much gone. The drivers license and SS card has been replaced (yes, I know...I shouldn't carry my SS card...lesson learned). But the emotional and mental wounds are still there. I get extremely anxious when I arrive in the parking lot of my complex after dark. I end up driving around for about 10 minutes checking out every nook and cranny. Heck, I get anxious when I see anyone out and about after dark. Every little noise wakes me up (they got my driver's license, so know specifically where I live).<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One week Later</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dbYqfmIBdplvvNpt7WE3hPWmXv_gI50G54V3KOuF3HJN2K1ekla5KlucH3qych1gB__UrBzCBEukipaqBgy-2Fl3OdBeMS-RlwhRi_nU3aTCMGP73xFAeRYdgABvf7D9InjJNR0ViNM/s1600/20140819_215531.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6dbYqfmIBdplvvNpt7WE3hPWmXv_gI50G54V3KOuF3HJN2K1ekla5KlucH3qych1gB__UrBzCBEukipaqBgy-2Fl3OdBeMS-RlwhRi_nU3aTCMGP73xFAeRYdgABvf7D9InjJNR0ViNM/s1600/20140819_215531.jpg" height="200" width="112" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">9 Days Later</td></tr>
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But more than that, I just can't believe that people do things like this to other people. Sure, I see it on TV all of the time and read about it in the paper and in books. But to actually be "the victim!?" Who the hell do these guys think they are for doing this? What did they get out of it? Why did they pick me? Why do they do it at all? What kind of world do we live in where a guy has to fear for his life walking 50 feet to his home. This theft and assault wasn't based on a need for money, but a need for a thrill. And that is what makes it all the more sad. I know that I need to get over it. It happens all the time. But this one happens to me. I'm not afraid to say that I'm afraid.<br />
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Either way, I'm working on getting past this. Slowly, but still going to get past it. Yes, I'm angry as hell that these assholes messed with me, but in the end, I lived. No extra holes in my body, and I'm still breathing. And, I got to hold my baby girl. I still feel the need to run to my apartment every time I come home after dark. I haven't been any further than home or work since that night. And, this guy who has never been interested in owning a weapon has decided it is time to get a concealed carry license and a gun to go along with it. I've been told that it takes more than the weapon on my hip to feel safe. I have to be willing to use it. If it keeps me from feeling like I did that night and the two weeks after, then so be it.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LGxXhLwOghY/VAE9O27I7dI/AAAAAAAAFQg/5Xkl1ToiGKQ/s1600/20140829_182815.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LGxXhLwOghY/VAE9O27I7dI/AAAAAAAAFQg/5Xkl1ToiGKQ/s1600/20140829_182815.jpg" height="200" width="112" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Today-13 Days Later</td></tr>
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I will not be a victim again.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDsaoIyurS0VaXknn0aePbjSOl9dMsuG3i-il4KevRxpMv4BZoqEVPbVfrZwMvDoNlJdC0bYE5f1JGpYdba9Xnq_vzfUvPSv1OoLaOpFyuj6pGc3EcwnR_OEAgV8PX0TSpdE1gB5fyHcw/s1600/2014-08-29+20.54.33.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDsaoIyurS0VaXknn0aePbjSOl9dMsuG3i-il4KevRxpMv4BZoqEVPbVfrZwMvDoNlJdC0bYE5f1JGpYdba9Xnq_vzfUvPSv1OoLaOpFyuj6pGc3EcwnR_OEAgV8PX0TSpdE1gB5fyHcw/s1600/2014-08-29+20.54.33.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a>And just for fun, I got my replacement drivers license today. They wouldn't use my old picture on the replacement license. So I have this reminder for at least the next 4 years.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-63706581318535658742013-04-15T21:46:00.000-06:002013-04-17T08:46:34.470-06:00Let's see how this plays out...a cynical view<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">In reference to a Facebook posting I made over the craziness of the Boston Marathon bombings, someone replied "Let's see how this plays out." Seriously? Like you don't already know! Here is exactly how this will play out.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5mvrpO2wVjgeSjI3s_zIX_MQcsSQy44RJvgRugc9gu0gtgtFz4ejUOyjh5z23k_pJUKgI2vkDqKACVOLzOyo5N49pM4ErNLL0V4r2BNZiJRi3neHUkdzKX5B-MxVhtlY4jg_nOTtdsc/s1600/BostonMarathon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM5mvrpO2wVjgeSjI3s_zIX_MQcsSQy44RJvgRugc9gu0gtgtFz4ejUOyjh5z23k_pJUKgI2vkDqKACVOLzOyo5N49pM4ErNLL0V4r2BNZiJRi3neHUkdzKX5B-MxVhtlY4jg_nOTtdsc/s320/BostonMarathon.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">The democrats will blame the republicans. The republicans will blame the democrats. Everyone will blame Obama. The christians will blame the gays. The gun nuts will rant about how it could have been avoided if someone wasn't trying to take away their rights to carry guns everywhere they go, and the anti-gun nuts will rave that it was all because gun nuts are carrying their guns everywhere they go. The capitalist will work to find any angle to make money off of the whole event, and the little, old man who got blown over during the initial blast will be working on finding the best offer for his book/movie deal. Some of the runners will complain how they were wronged because they didn't get the chance to finish their marathon, and others will tell every camera in a quarter mile radius how much they were traumatized, even though they were nowhere near the event. The right-wingers will point their fingers at the lower and middle classes and attempt to use this event to give themselves a raise while at the same time exempting themselves from some new marathon tax. Gas will go up $.25 cents/gallon and our troops will have to spend another 6 months overseas. Former President Bush will use today to push his agenda to go after some totally unrelated country or "non-American" group that hurt his daddy's feelings. The secessionist will play this off as yet another reason not to stay a part of the USA. The left-wingers will begin a tirade about how, when they finally catch the asses responsible for this tragedy, that said asses be given all of their due rights. Every preacher/priest/religious leader in every corner of the country will rant on how this is yet another example of gods punishment for the country being so progressive and Westburo Baptist Church will start making new "God Hates Fags" signs for the protest they plan for the funerals of the fallen. Someone will figure out a way to sue someone else because they were so distraught when they heard the news that they wrecked their car. Lifetime will begin casting Meredith Baxter for their touchy-feely rendition of the bombings. Everyone in their dog will start pushing for excessive safety everywhere, and lawmakers will put silly laws into place preventing people from doing anything that "might seem suspicious" knowing full well that those laws won't be enforced in a few months time because they are inconvenient. Since the propagandist news initially reported that one person of interest was "dark skinned or black," every sheep in the country will stereotype anyone who is "dark skinned or black" and all sorts of racial issues will resurface. The sheep of the world will be glued to their television watching every A or B list television/movie star comments on how "we should all get along " while those same stars are doing nothing more than using today as a way to get a little more face time. ASPCA will be calling up Sarah McLachlan to update their tear-jerk commercials with footage of animals that weren't rescued because of the bombings. Marathon sponsors will be searching for examples of people wearing their brands during the bombing footage so that they can update their sales pitches and go for the sympathy sale. The President will figure out a way to use today as a reason to not finish some of the things he promised during his election and Senators and Representatives will be working hard to squeeze every penny out of the lobbyist that will be using today to support some non-related agenda. Insurance companies will be working on ways to justify not paying for the medical bills that resulted from the bombings, and conspiracy theorist will find some way to link the whole event back to the faked moon landing or the assassination of JFK. And in two weeks time, no one will care what happened this dark April 15th, opting to turn to the latest episode of Honey Boo Boo or the Voice, getting angry when their "stories" are interrupted for yet another "breaking update" of the event.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> The sheep </span>will go on with their boring, dreary lives waiting for the next "exciting" tragedy because, now that all the finger pointing is done, it is no longer interesting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I know this is all coming from my cynical self, but tell me I am wrong.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">(PS - I realize this is nowhere near one of my best writings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wrote this in about 10 minutes while in a very irked state at the very sheepish attitudes and responses to the catastrophe. It doesn't matter when or where it took place. It was a sin against civilized human beings, and we should all be angry. Sad part is that the sheep will only be selfish and make it about them. Only when people wise up, pay attention, stop being so damn selfish, and educate themselves will things like this stop happening. Sheep. Ugh.)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">(PPS - before all of my current and former students start emailing me about the several capitalization "errors," I want to say that they are all intentional.)</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0San Antonio, TX, USA29.4241219 -98.49362819999998928.5395009 -99.784521699999985 30.3087429 -97.2027347tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-77436768974076199142012-11-06T11:08:00.000-07:002013-01-17T07:40:13.809-07:00Definition of Sheep<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I use the term "Sheep" often in my Facebook, Google+ and blog post. Some people just don't get what I mean by the term. So let me be specific.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">A sheep is a person who does not make informed decisions and opinions. Those I classify as sheep typically fall into one or more of the following categories. Please note: I am generalizing, and there are exceptions to every rule.</span><br />
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<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Bandwagon riders- everyone else is doing it, so I will do the same. After all, I wouldn't want to be unique from others.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Media rhetoric spewers- "I saw it on Fox News," or "It was on a website somewhere." Taking the easy route of gathering biased information to base ones opinion on is not an informed decision.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">The bible said soers - using the bible as the SOLE (pun intended) reason for having an opinion does not an informed opinion make. I respect your belief system (even if your belief system tells you not to respect mine), and the bible (and modern organized religion) is a basis for a moral system. However, simply saying that "the bible says I must do this" or "the bible says I must believe that" is ludicrous, especially when you back your opinion with nothing else. If you use the bible as a starting point, and then continue to do research to make an informed decision and included that information with your belief system, then you are NOT a sheep. Sheep believe what they are told to believe by whatever religions leader and the bible, and do not look any further.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Cherry picker religious nuts who use the bible as the sole source of information and directive on any and all opinions (addendum to the previous bullet) - Cherry picker religion is when a person claims to be a christian/buddhist/jew/hindu/muslim/whatever, but only follows the religions doctrines of their chosen religion that they want to follow and ignore the rest. Sadly, the vast majority of those who claim to belong to any given major or minor religion tend to fall into this category. I have no respect for your religion as neither do you, or your would follow the religion completely or not at all.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> Straight party ticket voters - Sorry, but if you are still in the mind set that our county is based on a two party system, and that all persons belonging to that party all believe the same way, then you are beyond hope. Additionally, every party is multiple planks in their platform, and sometimes, those planks contradict each other. Elections are about the PERSON that is going to be representing you, not the party to which they belong. If you do not take the time to review and understand each individual person that is running for any given position, or if you vote and make decisions simply because they are "Republican" or "Democrat," then you are not better than the bible said soers or the Cherry picker religions nuts. There are very few (in fact, only one) straight party ticket voter (and yes, he is a Republican) that has ever shown that he takes the time to research the other side of the coin and still comes to the same opinion. I respect his input and debate simply because they are informed, even if they are opposite of my opinions.</span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Those who absolutely refuse to even listen to another point of view - there are something like 7 billion people on this planet. Each of us have our own opinion and point of view. When you expect me to listen to yours, and then you flat out refuse to listen to mine (not necessarily accept my opinion, but just listen), your opinion becomes obsolete in my eyes. You are so afraid that you might hear a convincing argument that opposes your opinion that you refuse to listen to anything from anyone. That makes you a sheep.</span></li>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">There you go. Sheep clearly defined. You are lead easily because you don't want to become informed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">I am fine with your opinions and beliefs, even if they don't coincide with mine. All I ask is that you do the same (accept that your opinion is just that - an opinion) and be willing to listen to mine, that not everyone is going to agree with you, and that you back every opinion with knowledge, research, and a little logical thinking. Is that too much to ask? Apparently, it is. Welcome to America.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Just sayin.</span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-60990358729625236032012-08-22T21:04:00.004-06:002012-08-22T21:20:29.453-06:00Yet Another MoveYou might have noticed the change in venue...<br />
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As I approach the time of renewing my web service contract, I have decided that it is no longer worth the cost. And why pay, when I can get it free.<br />
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I did move all of the more interesting post and previous comments to this location. They are all here. I still have some layout work to do, and with these preset tools,<br />
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So, Dwayne's World Blog is now hosted here, and I will make attempts to write more often.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-74979864654422689542012-08-22T18:22:00.004-06:002012-08-22T18:28:30.829-06:00Giving Unwanted Thanks to a Soldier(Originally posted on 03/27/2012) <br />
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Don’t let the title fool you. While I don’t support this silly war, I
fully support our soldiers who are risking life and limb. But
something happened this weekend while Syd and I were at Fiesta Texas
that has been bothering me, and so, I write this to get a little
feedback, and maybe put my mind at ease, and as usual, to just vent.<br />
<br />
So here is the scenario. Syd and I were having a daddy/daughter day
at Fiesta Texas this weekend. We had spent the entire day riding every
roller coaster we would find because we both love them so much. In
between the Superman and the Scream, we decided to take a break. We
stopped at a park picnic area and sat to enjoy the shade.<br />
<br />
Also enjoying the shade was, based on the clothing that he was
wearing, a young solder. He couldn’t have been more than 25 or 26 years
old. He was in a wheel chair and both of his legs were missing. He
wore a below the knee prosthetic leg on his right leg, and his left leg
was missing below the knee. He was wearing a USMC T-shirt, had several
military stickers on his chair, and had his cammo backpack on the back
of his chair. He was with a friend, also in causal military attire, and
was sitting beside baby carriage, which was cradling a very small
child. The carriage had a USMC kiddie blanket over it protecting the
kiddo from the sun. His friend was video taping what I assume was their
wives riding the Merry-Go-Round with another small child, around 3 or 4
years old. The spouses and, even the 4 year old, were all wearing
T-shirts advertising military connections.<br />
<br />
As we sat, Syd was staring, as young kiddos do, and I asked her not
to do so. She asked me what happened to the guy in the chair. I
explained to her that he was a soldier, that he had been fighting in the
war, and was injured while in battle. I told her that, sometimes, our
soldiers who fight for our freedom, or the freedoms of others, volunteer
their lives, health, and physical safety to maintain our ideas. Of
course, I didn’t mention to her that, in this current war, they are
risking their lives to maintain our governments need to stick our noses
in other peoples business and police the world, but I digress. I
explained to Syd that sometimes, during the course of their duties,
soldiers are seriously injured, as in this case, and loose their limbs.
She said she felt sorry for him, and I told her not to. I told her
that he made it home and gets to see his children grow up and be with
his family. I told her that, yes, it sucks that he is going to be
wheelchair bound for the rest of his life, but that many soldiers don’t
even get that. Many soldiers die in battle and their children don’t get
to see them again. I explained all this to her quietly out of ear shot
of the soldier and his family and friends.<br />
She sat quietly for awhile mulling over and processing all we talked
about, and then asked if it would be okay if she could go say thank you
to him. I was very proud of my little girl, and said that should could
go say thank you. But before we could stand up, an older couple walked
up to the soldier, and humbly apologized for interrupting the soldiers
day with his family. The woman then crossed and blessed the soldier and
thanked him for his sacrifice. He said thank you, and the older couple
walked away. Immediately after, a small group of guys approached the
soldier and his family and struck up a conversation about the fact that
the group of guys was enjoying their last weekend in town before being
shipped out for their tours overseas. They chatted for a few minutes,
and all of the group of guys said they were proud to be serving, and,
that even though they didn’t know the wounded solder personally, they
considered him a hero. He thanked them, and the group of new soldiers
departed.<br />
<br />
As we stood up to head over, one of the wives sighed heavily, and
said, very loud, “I get so sick of that shit!” The legless soldier said
“If I hear one more thank you for your service I am going to shoot
myself.” The friend and his wife made similar rude and dismissive
comments. They all laughed and walked/rolled away. Sydney looked at me
and said “Never mind, daddy. I don’t want to say thank you anymore.”
My heart broke for her. Her image of this would-be hero was broken.<br />
<br />
I stood there dumbfounded. I can imagine that it was devastating to
loose his legs. I can imagine that even hearing the constant thank yous
might get a little old. I even get that the constant interruptions to
family time can get a little irritating. And, even though many new
soldiers go into battle with visions of grandeur and becoming a hero, I
also know that, when reality sets in and it becomes plainly obvious
that, sometimes, serving can leave a soldier in a chair for their rest
of their lives, shunning or laughing at those who want to thank them for
their services is downright insulting.<br />
<br />
We spend our days hearing and seeing “support our soldiers” and most
of really do. We love and support the brave men and women who serve our
country and, sometimes, pay the ultimate price for that service. I
just couldn’t believe that this soldier and his family acted the way
that they did. If he didn’t want the attention, they why was he
advertising the fact that he was in the military?<br />
<br />
It took everything I had not to go up to him and punch him in the
head. I shouldn’t let it bother me, but it did. Their very poor
attitude and comments harmed my daughters image of what a soldier and a
hero is. I maintained myself, and we walked away to enjoy the rest of
our day.<br />
<br />
Am I reading too much into it?<br />
<br />
Either way, I am giving a big thank you to all those who serve in the
military. If you don’t want the thank you, too damn bad. You are
getting it anyway.<br />
<br />
Just sayin’.<br />
<br />
_______________________<br />
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/rosalinda.witherspoon" target="_blank">Rosalinda Witherspoon</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"> · ITT Technical Institute</span><br />
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I
thank no soldiers I also feel they are bothered by it, I have a son in
the Navy and thank him all the time, it never bothers him I think he
enjoys hearing, Thank you, and he's a proud great kid, well my kid that
is. Lol. <br />
Just explain there are good soldiers and bad soldiers Just like there are good people and they are bad people. </div>
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<abbr data-utime="1332862210" title="Tuesday, March 27, 2012 at 10:30am">March 27 at 10:30am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/hunter.hempfling.3" target="_blank">Hunter Hempfling</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"> · <span class="FollowLink"><span id="u3pea3_66"><span class="followLinkSubscribed fcg">Subscribed</span></span></span></span> · Works at Chapel Hill UMC<br />
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I
would have felt the same as you did. I infact do say thank you to
soldiers for maintaining my freedom and if they do not understand it
applies for all soldiers then they are stupid. I thank them all not just
the ones that came home with lost limbs. people sometimes don't realize
that what they say can crush a child unbeknownst to them. I mean I
trhank all people for any survise they provide to me its common courtesy
jeez, what has happened to being humble and having manners?</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1332882496" title="Tuesday, March 27, 2012 at 4:08pm">March 27 at 4:08pm</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/angela.s.stelzer" target="_blank">Angela Sledge Stelzer</a> · Works at Arizona Department of Veterans' Services<br />
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DI
I was a soldier. I was injured. I will end up in a chair most likely
sooner than later. My injury took 7 yrs to come almost completely
debilitating. In my job people know I am a Vet. I can't hold the job
otherwise. It makes me very uncomfortable when I am thanked for my or my
husbands service. I do not know ow one who served could be so rude to
those who realize that their freedoms are because of these soldiers. I
never know how to react as I don't feel that a thank you is warranted. I
did my job. This young Marine was in the wrong. He is obviously proud
of his service to advertise his USMC status. I am sorry that this was
Syds introduction to wounded soldiers. There are many that she sees
everyday that she doesn't even realize are soldiers. These soldiers came
home and did not pity themselves. They came home and overcame th<br />
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burdens of battle and reintegrated themselves into society. They most
likely still suffer but they don't pity themselves or expect it from
anyone else. The young Marine you saw most likely felt that people only
thanked him out of pity which is hard to deal with with. This young man
has been traumatized and most likely suffers with PTSD along with other
serious unseen injuries. Give him time to grow up. In a few years he
will most likely calm down and gain some perspective. I am not defending
this young Marine. He was wrong in his reaction as was his spouse.
(Spouses really get me angry) but it is not always what it seems. This
man is fighting some serious demons and with maturity he will learn to
be more gracious. I when approached will quietly thank the person and
try to move on. Syd will have a lot of opportunity to meet more mature
soldiers. Please don't allow this man to ruin Syds view of those who
fight for her freedoms whether in reality or in the case of this war in
ideals. Most soldiers are quiet and uncomfortable with thank yous but
will accept and appreciate them. I appreciated your taking the time to
teach Syd about these things. Thank you for taking the time to explain
these important things to her. If you get a chance try to explain to her
about quiet demons such as PTSD, TBI, depression and resentment that
young soldiers often face when they come home in the prime of their
lives in a state that has robbed them of their youth. Most will mature,
but coming home while wonderful is a very hard transition to make
especially when one is seriously wounded.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1332872698" title="Tuesday, March 27, 2012 at 1:24pm">March 27 at 1:24pm</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/dwayneisbell" target="_blank">Dwayne Isbell</a> · Registrar at ITT Technical Institute, East Campus<br />
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Thank
you for that response. I wanted to reply, and say, from the viewpoint
of someone who didn't serve (not because I didn't want to but because I
wasn't allowed to), that any person who puts their lives on the line for
me and for my child is a hero and my thanks will always go out to you.
It doesn't matter what you did in the military - from cleaning latrines
to firing on the front lines - you put your life on the line, and
because of that, you and every person who serves time is a hero in my
book. And I want my child to feel the same way. I think what bothered
me more than anything was the fact that her image of this type of person
(military individual, regardless of their disability) was shattered. I
understand where you come from, but you, your husband, and even this
soldier at the park, deserve thanks from every perso<br />
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enjoying our freedoms. I will continue to explain to Syd and I will
add in the explanations that you suggested. She will get past it. She
understands my father and grandfather were military, and she respects
them and understands their roles. I get that soldiers don't go into the
military expecting thanks upon their return. It doesn't mean that they
don't deserve that thanks. I also get that he probably has been
getting the constant attention due to his disability since he got out of
the military, but, as a soldier, a representative of our brave, there
are better ways of handling it. Again, Angie, thanks for the
perspective. It is always appreciated. Hopefully his mental and
emotional wounds will heal, even if they take longer than his physical
wounds.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1332873815" title="Tuesday, March 27, 2012 at 1:43pm">March 27 at 1:43pm</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/lisastilesellison" target="_blank">Lisa Stiles Ellison</a> · Director of Sales at Staybridge Suites Lubbock<br />
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My
feeling is, if he didn't want the "publicity" of being a soldier that
served this great country of ours... DON'T ADVERTISE IT! If I were a
soldier and was injured to the extent of his injuries, I would not wear
apparel that told that I was military, nor would I adorn my
vehicle/wheelchair with military stickers. If you don't want the
attention, as in this case, then don't advertise it. That makes me sad
for Syd that she had to see that, because I am sure that it his a very
rare case of bitterness. There are plenty of great men and women that
have served, gotten injured, and still like for people, such as us, to
go out of our way to Thank them! Tell her to keep her head up, and not
let this discourage her from Thanking a Soldier!</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1332861410" title="Tuesday, March 27, 2012 at 10:16am">March 27 at 10:16am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/johnny.hale.3382" target="_blank">Johnny Hale</a> · Wylie High School<br />
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I
served in Vietnam and I got my first thank you for serving just a few
months back. When we first got home some people would spit on us if they
knew we were Vietnam veterns. It never happened to me but I heard of
it.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1332863376" title="Tuesday, March 27, 2012 at 10:49am">March 27 at 10:49am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/Lizzie8669" target="_blank">Elizabeth Smith</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"> · <span class="FollowLink"><span id="u3pea3_73"><span class="followLinkSubscribed fcg">Subscribed</span></span></span></span> · ITT Technical Institute<br />
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This
guy was probably a classless jerk before he became a soldier anyway. I
hope Syd will get past this and know that there are just terrible, mean,
bitter people in the world. I don't know why all the "advertisement"
for the Marines if he isn't proud to be one! This made me sad for Syd
and our country. Thank you for sharing...and I share in your outrage
both as a former soldier and military spouse.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1332861889" title="Tuesday, March 27, 2012 at 10:24am">March 27 at 10:24am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/mindybrewster1" target="_blank">Mindy Brewster</a> · Centerton, Arkansas<br />
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I
am not sure what to think about this situation. How he reacted very
publicly was indeed wrong. He may be extremely proud to be USMC however
if he does not wish for attention then he needs to take down the
stickers. <br />
I agree with Angela about the trauma this person suffered. <br />
I am a very Proud Navy wife and there are time that I don't want to go
about town strutting the Navy because we are there to have fun family
time without distraction. Other times I will sport anything that say
NAVY on it. <br />
I hope this man finds a more mature approach to the situation in the future.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1332875923" title="Tuesday, March 27, 2012 at 2:18pm">March 27 at 2:18pm</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/ashley.sasser.7" target="_blank">Ashley Sasser</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"></span><br />
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wow my kids tell everyone military person in uniform thank u that is shocking and crule</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1332894119" title="Tuesday, March 27, 2012 at 7:21pm">March 27 at 7:21pm</abbr></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-71729923182549265732012-08-22T18:15:00.001-06:002013-11-03T17:02:50.579-07:00I Saw You Today (First Draft)<abbr>(Originally posted on </abbr>12/18/2011)<br />
<br />
I saw you today.<br />
<br />
It had been so long.<br />
<br />
I thought that I missed you.<br />
<br />
I was surprised that I didn’t.<br />
<br />
It took so long to say goodbye to the memory of you.<br />
<br />
And even when I did, I realized I was holding onto nothing special.<br />
<br />
You said hello. You ask how I’ve been.<br />
<br />
I had nothing to say. I was more interested in the way I was seeing you now compared to way back then.<br />
<br />
No longer was I blind to the person you really are.<br />
<br />
No longer was there any feeling or emotions clouding my vision.<br />
<br />
The scars you left on my heart served to make my vision clear.<br />
<br />
The rose colored view had been washed away.<br />
<br />
I saw the failure that you are, failure as a person, as a human being.<br />
<br />
I saw the leech that you have become, or, have always been.<br />
<br />
I saw every lie you used to break my heart.<br />
<br />
I saw beyond your outer beauty to the evil creature within.<br />
<br />
I saw a darkened, ugly, black heart incapable of any love other than the narcissistic, self love you have for your self.<br />
<br />
I saw everything that you truly are, and I can’t believe that I fell for your facade.<br />
<br />
When I choose not to reply, but only smile, you ask me why.<br />
<br />
The smile grows into a grin. How much I’ve grown, how much you have not.<br />
<br />
When I walk away, without a word, you made one last attempt and ask me why I hate you so.<br />
<br />
I think, I don’t hate you. To hate you would imply that care about your existence.<br />
<br />
In reality, I have not only said goodbye, but I’ve forgotten you.<br />
<br />
And without memories of you, you are nothing. That is what you were when you came in. That is what you are now that I pushed you out.<br />
<br />
The smile on my face says it all. Because when I turned my back on you without a word, I had a smile on my face.<br />
<br />
So when I saw you today, I knew my choice to forget you was right.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-15443099697850894052012-08-22T18:09:00.000-06:002012-08-22T20:24:06.576-06:00The Talk...Part I(Originally08/01/2011 posted <br />
<br />
I had to endure a very traumatic event this weekend. All parents
fear it. Dad’s dread it. I was hoping the day would never come. But,
alas, it finally arrived. Amy (if your not familiar with my nicknames
for family and friends, see the Cast link on the menu, and try to keep
up!) finally asked the right questions, which lead to the dreaded talk.
I am still shaking.<br />
<br />
First and foremost, you all know that Amy is my one and only, and I
have no backups. So I am a bit over protective (look at previous post),
and have been very persistent in keeping her naive to some of the
oddities and realities that come along with the discovery of sex, gender
roles, and all the damage that puberty does to the human teenager. She
doesn’t watch movies that have any kind of sex references to them, we
avoid those “not so fresh feeling” commercials, and when the general
question of “how did the baby get in there” has arisen, we always tell
her “we will tell you later” or revert to immaculate conception myths.
She knows I put her in her mommy’s tummy, but has no concept of how, and
we are perfectly happy with that. After all, I thought kissing is how
my mom got pregnant with me until I was 12.<br />
<br />
She spent most of the summer with her cousins. Her older cousin, who
is now 13, somehow managed to blossom from the cute little rambunctious
tom boy into a young woman in the matter of less than a year since we
last saw them. My jaw almost dropped when she walked in and looked 19
years old! Her younger sister is already on the cusp on blossoming, and
we knew that during the time they were going to be hanging out over the
summer, someone what gonna notice something, and questions would be
asked. We just hoped that we would have another year before having to
answer. Sadly, that was not to be the case.<br />
We went to visit them and their grandmothers house, and decided to
take the girls swimming. Her older cousin said that she would be
staying behind. When Amy asked why, all she said was that she couldn’t
go swimming today. All the way to the pool, Amy asked again and again
why her cousin couldn’t go swimming with them, and we kept saying that
we would tell her later. Luckily, no more questions.<br />
<br />
But this weekend, she marched me and Connie into Connie’s room, sat us on the bed, and said (and I quote)<br />
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<br />
<br />
CRAP! There was no getting out of it this time. (No, she wasn’t
wearing combat boots with matching oven mitts….just go with it!)<br />
<br />
Well, I figured, I am a teacher. Granted, I teach adults, but this
little inquisitive creature in front of me couldn’t be all that
different. But, nonetheless, I am a teacher, and I could teach
anything! I would just have to use not so technical terms and lots of
visual aids. So I cranked up the Internet, Google imaged several cross
section of that mysterious female anatomy, considered throwing together a
nice PowerPoint, and started my lecture. (Connie helped, of course).<br />
<br />
I explained that as boys and girls grow older, their bodies change.
(Luckily, I didn’t have to say more about boy parts or boy changes at
this point…she was perfectly happy to hear about her own expected
changes and leave it at that). I explained that those changes included
getting taller, boobs growing, and hair sprouting up in all sorts of
weird places, along with all sorts of hormonal responses. I told her
she would probably turn into this creature that was torture to live with
and she would hate her parents. She promised she wouldn’t (I recorded
the statement on my phone to play for her when she turns into an evil
teenager). She listened to me calmly and patiently. I explained that
one of the changes that a woman has is that she starts having periods
every month, and thus was the reason that her cousin couldn’t go
swimming, because it was her time of the month for a period. Of course,
my little information sponge wanted to know all the details about what a
period was. Sigh. Onto the next slide.<br />
<br />
Up comes the cross section of the internals of female anatomy. At
this point, I began getting a bit uncomfortable, but trudged on. After
explaining that there were actually three “holes” on a woman in “that
special area” and their general purposes (yes I was using 9 year old
appropriate words), we moved into discussing what was at the top end of
the “middle” hole. This is where the pictures came in. We showed her
the fallopian tubes, the ovaries, and the uterus. She asked where hers
was. Again with another diagram. She wanted to know where mine was. I
told her boys don’t have them because boys don’t have babies – married
women do. So far, so good. No questions I couldn’t handle so far.<br />
<br />
And she actually seemed to be okay with the discussion thus far, and
at first, she seemed to be okay with this point in the conversation, and
we couldn’t stop here. I figured I had gotten off lightly, and I had
placated her for at least a little while and I wouldn’t have to go into
any more detail.<br />
<br />
Then I hear<br />
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(No, during the course of our conversation, her outfit and hair
didn’t change, and she didn’t grow flesh colored arms and legs…stay on
track, folks!). My thoughts…how the hell did this kid get so smart!!
Oh, wait. She’s my kid. That explains it. So, now time too explain
what a period is and what happens during this time of the month. (Keep
in mind, Connie, Amy’s mom, is helping with this whole conversation, but
a little more freaked out than I am to be having this conversation with
our daughter.)<br />
<br />
So we explained that every month, an egg leaves the ovaries for a
trip down the tubes into the uterus. She crinkled her nose. In
preparation for the arrival, the uterus walls get thick with blood. Of
course, she asked why there needs to be blood for the egg. And her mom
chimed in at this point and said “In case of fertilization.” Then it
hit her what she had said. The room got so quiet that we could hear a
pin drop! Holy cow, what if she ask how fertilization happens! Were we
ready for that? Could she handle the how babies are made talk? Could I
handle the how babies are made talk? I don’t think I took a breath for
like an hour, but in reality, it was only 45 seconds while I watched
the gears in her head turning…and finally, she said<br />
<br />
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<br />
(Once
again, ignore my morphing child! I’m doin this on the fly). Exhale,
daddy, breath. So I jump ahead to avoid any more thinking on the
potential “fertilization” questions. So I said, if the magic
fertilization doesn’t happen, then there is no need for all that blood
built up in the uterus, so it has to leave the body.<br />
She thought for awhile, crinkled her nose, and asked where the blood
goes. Her mom took over and said that was what the period is…the blood
leaving the body through that middle hole, called the vagina. We then
spent the next 15 minutes goin over all that female related stuff that
is on the special aisle at the grocery aisle, and even showed her how to
put one on, just in case, and when it would probably happen to her, and
so on. And because her cousin had to wear one of those things, then
she couldn’t go swimming.<br />
<br />
15 seconds of silence.<br />
<br />
Her response…<br />
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<br />
We
did spend a little more time explaining to her that she was going to
hear stuff from her friends at school, and from her cousins, and so on,
and whatever she heard, it was perfectly okay to come ask one of us for
verification. Of course, we told her that NO ONE was allowed to see or
touch her special areas (but, she already knew that). And finally, when
stuff does start happening (gods forbid), then she could count on us to
be there to help her through it. I will be hyperventilating the whole
way during that time, but I’ll do it. Its my job after all.<br />
<br />
She said thanks, skipped out of the room, and told her cousins that
she wanted to go climbing trees. My little tom boy is still here.
Whew. She hasn’t grown up and left yet.<br />
<br />
So I survived the talk, part one. I am seriously dreading the talk
part two, when we go into detail about the magical fertilization stage,
and I thank the gods that she didn’t feel the need to ask. Maybe my
child just recognized that I was already on edge about this part, and
decided to hold her questions until later…probably when she wants
something and uses that want to bribe me to not have to tell her part
two. I don’t know what I will do when that does comes, but I think I
will start preparing my PowerPoint presentation now! Then after that, I
gotta start worrying about when the boys start sniffing around. But I
already have the place picked out to hide the bodies. That part will be
easy! <img alt=":D" class="wp-smiley" src="http://blog.dwaynes-world.com/blog/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif" /> <br />
<br />
Love you, FIPWWW!<br />
<br />
Just sayin.<br />
<br />
(P.S. I borrowed several images from random places on the Internet
for this post…if you want me to remove them, just let me know, and I
will find someone else who wants to show off their work for free.)<br />
<br />
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Comments to original post <br />
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/joshncheri" target="_blank">Josh N Cheri Rodriguez</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"> · Works at Oliver W Holmes High School</span><br />
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I
love that she was so curious about SCIENCE! j/k Dude more power to
you for having the talk. My plan is to keep my little girl in diapers
so she never has to wonder why she cant go swimming. I wonder if
huggies makes swim diapers for teenagers?</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1312254697" title="Monday, August 1, 2011 at 10:11pm">August 1, 2011 at 10:11pm</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/dwayneisbell" target="_blank">Dwayne Isbell</a> · Registrar at ITT Technical Institute, East Campus<br />
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Why
not...they make them for adults! That's a GREAT IDEA...too bad I
didn't think of it until you mentioned it...she already know swimming.
I'll think of something else! :D</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1312254955" title="Monday, August 1, 2011 at 10:15pm">August 1, 2011 at 10:15pm</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/bethany.faulkner.501" target="_blank">Bethany Faulkner</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"></span><br />
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Oh,
the humanity! I had a class in school, and got the video about the
excitement and going for ice cream to celebrate...Great job explaining!</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1312399325" title="Wednesday, August 3, 2011 at 2:22pm"> </abbr><abbr data-utime="1312399325" title="Wednesday, August 3, 2011 at 2:22pm">August 3, 2011 at 2:22pm</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/etasha.ruggs" target="_blank">Etasha Ruggs</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"></span><br />
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Bravo!
You did an awesome job. I wish they had PowerPoint when I was her
age...it would have made things so much easier. I just got the "special"
video in school.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1312255102" title="Monday, August 1, 2011 at 10:18pm">August 1, 2011 at 10:18pm</abbr></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-53084224503368154062012-08-22T17:21:00.004-06:002012-08-22T21:19:06.208-06:00John Hughes: Teenage Expert…better than todays teenage crap movies! So I can’t take full credit for this particular idea. It actually
comes from two sources. One is one of my favorite bartenders who made a
very interesting Facebook post and the other from a friend of mine who
had never heard of John Hughes, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0090305/" target="_blank" title="Weird Science">Weird Science</a>, or the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brat_Pack_%28actors%29" target="_blank" title="Brat Pack">Brat Pack</a>.
He’s young – but otherwise genius, so I don’t hold his age against him,
but I figured I take this opportunity to bring back into the limelight <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000455/" target="_blank" title="John Hughes">John Hughes</a>
and his twisted, if not accurate, perspective of growing up in the
80′s…which, not so ironically, is pretty much the same as it is now.<br />
So, I don’t know if my bartender friend would be happy with me
smearing his name all over Dwaynes-World, so we will just call him Bob,
for now. If he says it’s okay, then I’ll update this posting later. A
few weeks ago, he posted the following on his Facebook…<br />
<h6>
<span style="color: #674ea7;">“Every teenager should eject their
Twilight or Harry Potter dvd, and watch every John Hughes movie ever
made, then wonder why he read their minds.”</span></h6>
I found this very interesting because I had just watched Weird
Science a few hours earlier and was commenting on my Facebook how
awesome that movie was. Then later the following day, I commented to my
friend (lets call him Space Cowboy for now) that I had just watched
Weird Science, and he looked at me like I just grew a second head. He
had never heard of it! I threw out a couple of other titles…<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091790/" target="_blank" title="Pretty in Pink">Pretty in Pink</a>, the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/find?s=all&q=Breakfast+Club" target="_blank" title="the Breakfast Club">Breakfast Club</a>, and <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091042/" target="_blank" title="Ferris Bueller's Day Off">Ferris Bueller’s Day Off</a>…all
I got was a blank stare. I was shocked! I couldn’t believe that he
had never heard of these classic films! Then I got to thinking back on
Bob’s post…movies today that speak to the high school and younger crowd
and that deal with life as a teenager or young adult are more the Harry
Potter and Twilight type series…and are totally irrelevant. (Speaking
of Twilight, if you get a chance, check out this <a href="http://theoatmeal.com/story/twilight" target="_blank" title="The Oatmeal - Twilight">blog post from The Oatmeal on the Twilight films</a>…you will be rolling!) But I digress…<br />
<br />
These titles…and life as a teenager themes…come from the brilliant
writer, director, and producer, John Hughes (1950-2009), who managed to
take what can be, for some, the most dreary times of their lives (and
yes, puberty and high school sucks, no matter how much you dress it up
with clicks, extra curricular activities, and coming of age success
stories), tosses in a mix of comedy, and manages to throw the message
out there without getting all preachy. And the best part it – that
message is more accurate that anything you get today! Forgiving the
80′s hair doos, what is now retro clothing, and original versions of
music that is nothing but remakes by untalented swill artist who can’t
think of anything original to say today, most everyone can relate to
some of Hughes genre of movie titles.<br />
<br />
What made this series of films so great is the common cast the chose
to play the roles of his tormented teenagers, who came to be known as
the Brat Pack. Among those labeled with this title (one that many were
not happy with for details, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brat_Pack_%28actors%29" target="_blank" title="The Brat Pack Wiki">read this wiki article</a>),
are Emilio Estevez, Anthony Michael Hall, Rob Lowe, Andrew McCarthy,
Demi Moore, Judd Nelson, Molly Ringwald, Ally Sheedy, Kevin Bacon,
Matthew Broderick, Jon Cryer, John Cusack, Jami Gertz, Mary Stuart
Masterson, Sean Penn, Lou Diamond Phillips, Kiefer Sutherland, and Lea
Thompson.<br />
<br />
(The 80′s Brat Packers can be likened to the the late 90′s group of
actors who often appeared in movies and themed films together. This
group consisted of Kevin Smith, Jason Mewes, Janeane Garofalo, Jason
Lee, Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, Alan Rickman, Chris Rock, Salma Hayek,
Shannen Doherty, Claire Forlani, and even Stan Lee himself.)<br />
<br />
My top 5 favorite Hughes films, and a must see for everyone, are<br />
<h1 style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="color: magenta;">#5: Pretty in Pink</span></i></h1>
Pretty in Pink. If you’ve never seen it, watch the trailer. If you have, watch the trailer. <img alt=":D" class="wp-smiley" src="http://blog.dwaynes-world.com/blog/wp-includes/images/smilies/icon_biggrin.gif" /> <br />
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<div style="text-align: left;">
So the story goes…A poor girl (Andie) must
choose between the affections of her doting childhood sweetheart
(Duckie) and a rich but sensitive playboy (Blaine). Of course, Duckie,
who is now just the best friend, is is still totally smitten (borrowed
that word from Frenchy!) with Andie, and when she finally gets a date
with Blaine, the man of her dreams, the social clicks are not too
thrilled that they are together. Of course, he makes all the right
moves, but leads her to make the right choice…and, it all plays out on
prom night, and well, I don’t want to ruin the film for you, but she has
to make a choice…</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I don’t know bout you, but there was always
that “perfect person” that I was so in love with, that was hot, that I
thought would make my life great, that if I could only be with them,
then all my problems would go away. And to make things worse, that
person was totally unreachable. Hell, that still happens today!
Meanwhile, I had that person I considered “my best friend” felt the same
way about me. But I never noticed my best friend…I was too focused on
the untouchable.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
It’s the same dilemma every person faces
today…even those that are considered the untouchable. The story hasn’t
changed…just the clicks, and even then, the clicks are the same…just
different people in the same spots. We find that what we want, and
whats best for us don’t always go hand in hand. Or, even better, that
what we get what we wish for, things aren’t as great as they seemed they
would be.</div>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: lime;"><i>#4: Weird Science</i></span></h1>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Along the same lines of hard choices of
love…or maybe just fitting in, comes Weird Science. Again…if you’ve
never seen it, screw the trailer…go rent the damn movie!</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Gary and Wyatt are a couple of best friends
who want nothing more than to fit in. Gary likes to think himself
cool, but comes from parents who are raving old school, bible beating
lunatics who have raised him to be a bit shy when it comes to taking a
risk. Wyatt spends more time worrying about what others are going to
think always tries to live up to his families expectations, which he
thinks he never does, and has an older brother who enjoys nothing more
than making his life a living hell. The thing is, both Gary and Wyatt
spend more time trying to impress others, or do things they think will
impress other, that they totally miss out on just being themselves. So
what do they do? They use their smarts (yes, they are the not so
typical nerds) and create the perfect woman, Lisa, out of an antiquated
computer, a freak lightening storm, bras on their heads, and a barbie
doll. Lisa, who possess a unique perspective and some very unique
“magic,” leads them on several adventures in an attempt to get them to
learn that valuable lesson that many of us learn way to late in life –
BE YOURSELF! Again, not going to ruin the film, so you gotta go watch
it! It is WELL worth it!</div>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #3366ff;"><i>#3: Sixteen Candles</i></span></h1>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
16 Candles comes in third on my list.
Why? Well, primarily, because it is funny as hell. Especially the
scene where Samantha gets felt up by her grandmother! With this cutesy
little story, Samantha is 15 years old, getting ready to celebrate her
16th, and her family is so caught up with whats going on, they forget
(or she feels like they have forgotten) her upcoming birthday. At the
same time, she is heads over heals with the most popular guy on campus
(I mean, really, who isn’t!), while being pursued by the weirdest and
“geekiest” boy at school. To make matters worse, her older sister is
getting married, and her family just inherited a foreign exchange
student by the name of Long Duc Dong!! This one is one of the funniest
of the whole set.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
And also, very relate-able. I remember the
day when I thought that my family either didn’t understand anything
that was going on in my life or just didn’t care. Even when they tried
to show they cared, I just didn’t see it. I even remember telling my
parents there is no way they could understand, because apparently, they
had been born parents and couldn’t see it from my point of view. And
every kid goes through that! This movie is so much better about
integrating this rite of passage than freakin Bella Swan and people not
understanding her need to choose between a vampire or a dog! Seriously!</div>
<h1 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ff9900;"><i>#2: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off</i></span></h1>
This flick is kinda out of the Brat Pack genre, but nonetheless is one of Hughes better films: Ferris Bueller’s Day Off<br />
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So Ferris is the typical slacker guy at school, more interested in
having fun than getting his education. He has had his fair share of
trouble (mostly with skipping school), and his goodie two shoes sister
wants nothing more than to bust him (hmmm…just realized that Phineas and
Ferb might have picked up a plot line from this movie…but I digress).
Before graduate, Ferris decides to have one more grand slam day, and
ditches school. After an elaborate set up to skip out, he convinces his
parents of his illness and they let him stay home sick. Instead, he
borrows a Farrari, and parties it up. A baseball game, a parade, you
name it, he did it. And his principal is in tow the whole way (along
with his tattletale sister), trying to catch this well known school
skipper. Has a great ending, and snappy little commentary from Ferris
himself throughout the movie, and in the end, even the tattletale sister
ends up on his side. But, wait, won’t say more. Catch the film.<br />
So this one is all about how to skip school. Not really, but it
still has the standard Hughes teenage commentary about overbearing
parental unit cruelties that we all thought were just to be mean as well
as that social status seeking that we all went through. And it is way
more realistic than Mean Girls (social status seeking), Bring it On
(cutesy cheerleader drivel), or Harry Potter (cruelty from the
adults…though, it did turn out to be a great drama).<br />
<h1 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: yellow;">#1: The Breakfast Club</span></h1>
And my top John Hughes film choice is…. The Breakfast Club!<br />
<br />
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This has always been one of my favorite all time films. The focus of
this flick – clicks! (ha! nice rhyme!). This film focuses on a group
of high school students who are placed in Saturday detention (OMG – we
needs bring Saturday detention back!!!!!! This in school suspension
crap doesn’t work) for their various “crimes” in school. There is the
popular, rich girl princess; the geeky, straight A student; the oh, so
handsome jock; the pot head, bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks;
and the creepy, weird girl that no one gets (what today is called Emo).
First and foremost, I think that Ally Sheedy played the BEST part in
this movie – especially when they had lunch!. Anyway, these 5, who
would have nothing to do with each other during normal school hours
because it is a crime to cross click lines in the high school hallways,
hafta deal with a demented (and I think slightly emotionally and
mentally worn out due to working in education for too long) principal,
who goes out of his way to catch them doing something they aren’t
suppose to be doing while in detention! And, of course, they spend
their time trying to get away with everything possible! During the
process, the realize that they have more in common, and even put aside
click lines and learn a little about why they are the way they are!<br />
<br />
I loved this because I belonged to the geeky, straight B, outcast,
wrong side of the track, poor country boy click when I was growing up.
Don’t get me wrong, I hated the fact that my family didn’t have the
money to buy the name brand clothes or buy me a car (I rode the bus) or
that I wasn’t on the football team, and I would never get a chance to be
in the popular crowd because I just didn’t measure up in high school
click terms. HOWEVER, looking back, I grew up a better person not
belonging to those crowds! And I love my parents for all they did give
me and I wasn’t a spoiled brat, though my mom (and maybe my sister and
brother) will say different from time to time. The look at clicks in
the film are classic and right on the ball. Today’s films tend to focus
on the popular click, and don’t even bother to go outside the hallways,
much less into the lives of the people who belong to the popular
clicks.<br />
<br />
So there it is. My count down to the best of the best of the John
Hughes films. Do yourself a favor. Forget all that crap you see
today. It is so fake compared to these films that it isn’t even worth
it. Plus, you will get to see some funky hair doos, hear original
versions of songs, and see what it was like to really grow up…not get
hand held through our teenage years like most high school students do
today.<br />
<br />
Lets have John Hughes movie night!! Who’s down?<br />
<br />
Just Sayin.<br />
<br />
<abbr>______________________________________</abbr><br />
<abbr>Comments to original post </abbr> <br />
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/jeremy.monett" target="_blank">Jeremy Wayne Monett</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"> · ITT Technical Institute</span><br />
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You
can't do John Hughes without doing The Great outdoors.Planes trains and
automobiles, and Uncle Buck! Particularly Uncle Buck.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1308582005" title="Monday, June 20, 2011 at 10:00am">June 20, 2011 at 10:00am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/dwayneisbell" target="_blank">Dwayne Isbell</a> · Registrar at ITT Technical Institute, East Campus<br />
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True,
but I was focusing more on the John Hughes life of a teenager
genera...so neither of those you mentioned would fit in. Maybe I will
do a total tribute to Hughes later, and do an overall top 5.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1308585307" title="Monday, June 20, 2011 at 10:55am">June 20, 2011 at 10:55am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/mark.harmon.5" target="_blank">Mark Harmon</a> · San Antonio, Texas<br />
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<span class="fsm fwn fcg"><a class="uiLinkSubtle" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/San-Antonio-Texas/110297742331680" target="_blank"></a></span><br />
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Especially Ferris Bueller...</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1308588171" title="Monday, June 20, 2011 at 11:42am">June 20, 2011 at 11:42am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/roman.a.guerra.7" target="_blank">Roman A. Guerra</a> · English Teacher JV Baseball coach at Edcouch-Elsa ISD<br />
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<span class="fsm fwn fcg"><a class="uiLinkSubtle" href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Edcouch-Elsa-ISD/114219628594582" target="_blank"></a></span><br />
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that if I could only be with them, then all my problems would go away....was it a Freudian slip that you said, "them" LOL.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1308548135" title="Monday, June 20, 2011 at 12:35am">June 20, 2011 at 12:35am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/dwayneisbell" target="_blank">Dwayne Isbell</a> · Registrar at ITT Technical Institute, East Campus<br />
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Possibly...I had alot of crushes in HS!! :D. What can I say ... :)</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1308548445" title="Monday, June 20, 2011 at 12:40am">June 20, 2011 at 12:40am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/christopher.mendoza.773124" target="_blank">Christopher Mendoza</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"></span><br />
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haha I have seen sixteen candles and ferris buellers day off :P I'm not that bad haha.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1308591036" title="Monday, June 20, 2011 at 12:30pm">June 20, 2011 at 12:30pm</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/dwayneisbell" target="_blank">Dwayne Isbell</a> · Registrar at ITT Technical Institute, East Campus<br />
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Yeah, but you didn't know Weird Science....but I called you a genius, so its all good. :D</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1308593310" title="Monday, June 20, 2011 at 1:08pm">June 20, 2011 at 1:08pm</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/bethany.faulkner.501" target="_blank">Bethany Faulkner</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"></span><br />
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Hey, Mean Girls was pretty good if you had ever been a girl in High School! Otherwise, you have, as always, outdones yourself!</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1308576936" title="Monday, June 20, 2011 at 8:35am">June 20, 2011 at 8:35am</abbr></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-17507618922848512882012-08-22T17:16:00.001-06:002012-08-22T21:18:40.506-06:00Oops...there's something I need to tell you...(Originally posted 06/03/2011) <br />
<br />
So, I downtown taking care of some business on my free time, and I
happen to come across this poster halfway hanging from the side of a
building. It had an interesting look to it, and hey, I've got time to
kill, so I go to check it out....<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FakP97PQYvoHlJ5TqLOx1AVc-nFkRSyMx5Gh5SgwZdAwUN1lQzBzAkS2czgu6QIFGRhBHHCRgjsDDNRX0HFiAx9L29SJZQNPOJLfD_4ZD-WjvN2tmZyv64aLvhLV-HpBwmEX6H18KeU/s1600/5075a7f0-c28b-4c6f-ad01-33b8bfa3d94b_main.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5FakP97PQYvoHlJ5TqLOx1AVc-nFkRSyMx5Gh5SgwZdAwUN1lQzBzAkS2czgu6QIFGRhBHHCRgjsDDNRX0HFiAx9L29SJZQNPOJLfD_4ZD-WjvN2tmZyv64aLvhLV-HpBwmEX6H18KeU/s400/5075a7f0-c28b-4c6f-ad01-33b8bfa3d94b_main.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Of course, I think this is just another one of the billions of the have
safe sex posters, signage, and notifications that we are bombarded with
on a daily basis. But...look closely...and then check out the
site...its just proof that the Internet can and is used for EVERYTHING -
including anonymously notifying one of your many flings you may have
left them with a little gift! (Notice the fine print: This is from a <b><span data-mce-style="color: #00ff00;" style="color: lime;">friend</span></b> at <a data-mce-href="http://inspot.org" href="http://inspot.org/" target="_blank" title="inSpot.org">inSpot</a>: the STD Internet Notification Service for <b><span data-mce-style="color: #00ff00;" style="color: lime;">Partners or Tricks</span></b><span data-mce-style="color: #c0c0c0;" style="color: silver;">)</span>. Hehehehehe.<br />
<br />
<a data-mce-href="http://inspot.org" href="http://inspot.org/" target="_blank" title="inSpot.org">inSpot.org</a>
provides two free services: 1) locate a center near you where you can
be tested for HIV or other STD's, and 2) notify someone you may have
infected anonymously via E-mail with a cute little e-Card.<br />
Great
idea for three reasons. 1) if I'm puttin my junk somewhere it shouldn't
be goin, then I wanna be able to find a quick and easy way to get
tested to make sure I didn't take away more than I bargained for. 2) if
I put my junk somewhere and left behind more than they bargained for
(even if I didn't mean too), I wanna be able to tell them <span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #cc0000;"><b>WITHOUT THEM KNOWING IT WAS ME</b></span>!
And 3) If your junk gave my junk cooties, you better hope to the gods
that I don't get my hands on you-so this anonymous little card may be
the only thing that saves your life!<br />
<br />
Now, seriously, #1 and #2 is
not something I worry about. My junk is picky where it goes and who it
plays with, and I have a doc that can check up on these things for me if
anything out of the ordinary pops up (no pun intended). When my junk
plays with someone elses junk, I generally know that person well enough
not to worry about getting cooties. But I think that if I were to open
my e-Mail one day, and find something like the following:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnSCQVoWvP7HKp2bxBuH0CBdIoT21kvlCVX7gCKhun22m-qv7dUDsIwQA6ThPjL6Ve9H88ESdDl23mPM2Sx6E_3sibnmZAFQTTXmpaEhHn7_94sOnomSTqqi-ieiXa4aSdyP_6eiXqrpA/s1600/5292fc1e-5735-4c45-bdeb-4e21b5f69825_main.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnSCQVoWvP7HKp2bxBuH0CBdIoT21kvlCVX7gCKhun22m-qv7dUDsIwQA6ThPjL6Ve9H88ESdDl23mPM2Sx6E_3sibnmZAFQTTXmpaEhHn7_94sOnomSTqqi-ieiXa4aSdyP_6eiXqrpA/s400/5292fc1e-5735-4c45-bdeb-4e21b5f69825_main.gif" width="400" /></a></div>
I
would probably have a heart attack. First off, I can guarantee you I
will know who it is from. And secondly, those cutesy little faces are
not going to make life any better-thank you very much for the attempt to
soften the blow (pun intended). Of course, I would take care of
business, get tested, get treated, and being to plan my revenge.<br />
<br />
While
I think this is awesome that there is something out there like this, I
am thinking: seriously!! WTF! Basically, it allows one to tell someone
else if they gave them something they probably don't want, but it also
allows one to <span data-mce-style="text-decoration: underline;" style="text-decoration: underline;"><span data-mce-style="color: #ff0000;" style="color: red;">not take responsibility</span></span>!
I guess at least notifying them is something, but, still...think about
it.<br />
<br />
There are some basic rules when it comes to puttin out:<br />
<ol>
<li>Keep it in your pants.</li>
<li>If you ignore rule one, then COVER IT UP when you use it.</li>
<li>If you ignore rules one and two, then if you get something, or give
something, then at least have the BALLS TO TELL THEM TO THEIR FACE!!
After all, you were looking them in the face (or maybe the back of their
head) when you gave it to them!</li>
</ol>
Seriously, <a data-mce-href="http://inspot.org" href="http://inspot.org/" target="_blank" title="inSpot">inSpot</a>
- kudos to you! While I think the cards are a little cheesy (go check
em out...some are actually a riot), thank you for putting something out
there that people might actually use to spread something besides the
bugs they carry on their Mr. Winkys or their cooters. There is one
serious setback to this service, tho. There are some out there who
don't keep track of so much as the names of the people they shag. Or
have so many, they couldn't keep track if they tried. Sad, sad, sad.<br />
<br />
Play. But play safe.<br />
<br />
Just sayin.<br />
<br />
(PS...I lifted these images from inSpot.org. I'm providing free advertising, so I hope you don't mind.)<br />
<br />
___________________________<br />
Comments to origional post<br />
<br />
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/john.rod.14" target="_blank">John Rod</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"></span><br />
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I actually so a TV add for this. and yeah agree completely.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1307245658" title="Saturday, June 4, 2011 at 10:47pm">June 4, 2011 at 10:47pm</abbr></div>
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<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-42540034869335205402012-08-22T17:07:00.003-06:002012-08-22T20:08:29.185-06:00I enjoy the freedom to ...<b><span style="color: yellow;"><span style="color: black;">(Originally posted 05/30/2011) </span></span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: yellow;">Work where I choose <span style="color: red;">(Because you chose to defend our country)</span><br />
</span></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: lime;">Go to school where I choose <span style="color: white;">(Because you chose to lay you life on the line)</span><br />
</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="color: #00ccff;"><span style="color: #3366ff;"> </span>Study what I choose </span></b><span style="color: #3366ff;"><b>(Because you chose to devote your life)</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: maroon;">Eat what I choose</span> (Because you chose to make a sacrifice)<br />
</span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: #3366ff;">Praise what I choose <span style="color: white;">(Because you chose to believe in our society)</span><br />
</span></b><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="color: #ff6600;">Date whom I choose <span style="color: #3366ff;">(Because you chose us first)</span><br />
</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: cyan;">Read what I choose <span style="color: red;">(Because you chose to put on the uniform)</span><br />
</span></b></div>
<b><span style="color: magenta;">Spend time with who I choose <span style="color: white;">(Because you chose to stand on the front lines)</span><br />
</span></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: #ff9900;">Live where I choose <span style="color: #3366ff;">(Because you chose to train)</span><br />
</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="color: yellow;">Say what I choose <span style="color: red;">(Because you chose to become the best of the best)</span><br />
</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="color: cyan;">Buy what I choose <span style="color: white;">(Because you chose to face danger)</span><br />
</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<b><span style="color: red;">Drive what I choose <span style="color: #3366ff;">(Because you chose to guard our beliefs)</span><br />
</span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #3366ff;"><b>Marry who I choose <span style="color: red;">(Because you chose to protect and serve)</span><br />
</b></span></div>
<span style="color: #ff6600;"><b>Visit who I choose <span style="color: white;">(Because you chose to leave your loved ones behind)</span><br />
</b></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><b>Vote for who I choose <span style="color: #3366ff;">(Because you chose to honor our ideas)</span><br />
</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: magenta;"><b>Drink when I choose <span style="color: red;">(Because you chose to battle those who would hurt us)</span><br />
</b></span></div>
<span style="color: silver;"><b><span style="color: cyan;">Sleep in when I choose</span> <span style="color: white;">(Because you choose to preserve our way of life)</span><br />
</b></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: lime;"><b>Sleep with whom I choose <span style="color: #3366ff;">(Because you chose to safeguard our principles)</span><br />
</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><b>Watch what I choose <span style="color: red;">(Because you died in our defense)</span><br />
</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #3366ff;"><b>Believe what I choose <span style="color: white;">(Because you chose to run headlong into battle)</span><br />
</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #ccffcc;"><b><span style="color: magenta;">Raise my child how I choose</span> <span style="color: #3366ff;">(Because you chose to go into uncertain danger)</span><br />
</b></span></div>
<span style="color: #ff6600;"><b>Pray how I choose <span style="color: red;">(Because you chose the needs of the many)</span><br />
</b></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #00ccff;"><b>Serve how I choose <span style="color: white;">(Because you chose to define heroism)</span><br />
</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: yellow;"><b>Pay what I choose <span style="color: #3366ff;">(Because you chose to secure our rights)</span><br />
</b></span></div>
<span style="color: lime;"><b>Listen to the music I choose <span style="color: red;">(Because you chose to cherish our constitution)</span><br />
</b></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: magenta;"><b>Think what I choose <span style="color: white;">(Because you chose my life over yours)</span><br />
</b></span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
<span style="color: #993366;"><b><span style="color: cyan;">Live as I choose</span> <span style="color: #3366ff;">(Because you choose)</span><br />
</b></span></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;">I choose (Because of you)<br />
</span></h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: white;">I choose (Because of you)<br />
</span></h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #3366ff;">I choose (Because of you)</span></h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #3366ff;"><span style="color: silver;">Thank you for my right to choose.</span><br />
</span></h2>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I have the <span style="color: red;"><b>freedom</b> </span>to go for what I <span style="color: white;"><b>choose</b></span>, when I <span style="color: #3366ff;"><b>choose</b></span>, where I <span style="color: red;"><b>choose</b></span>, and how I <span style="color: white;"><b>choose</b></span>. Those wants may not always be the best <span style="color: #3366ff;"><b>choice</b> </span>for me, and sometimes I may get in trouble for them, but the point is, I have the <span style="color: red;"><b>freedom </b></span>to <span style="color: white;"><b>choose</b></span>. And those <span style="color: #3366ff;"><b>freedoms </b></span>are thanks to you, the men and women of our armed forces that fight to protect our nation and the <span style="color: red;"><b>freedoms </b></span>that come with being a citizen of this great nation. I could not <span style="color: white;"><b>choose </b></span>what I want, or even be aware of these <span style="color: #3366ff;"><b>freedoms </b></span>had
it not been for you living, and dying, to protect the very ideas that
make America what it is today. Sure, we have our issues and problems,
and we don’t always agree. But that is the <span style="color: red;"><b>freedom </b></span>of <span style="color: white;"><b>choice </b></span>that we have to make.<br />
We devote every day to you with every <span style="color: #3366ff;"><b>choice </b></span>we have and every <span style="color: red;"><b>freedom </b></span>we enjoy. Memorial Day, is a special day to devote to you, those who have fallen, in order to keep those <span style="color: white;"><b>choices </b></span>we
take for granted every day. And sadly, people even take for granted
this most solemn day. It’s not just another holiday where we don’t have
to go to work. It’s not just another commercial holiday where
marketers reduce their prices. It’s not a day devoted to BBQ with
friends and family. It’s not a day to serve as a 3 day weekend for a
trip to the beach or stay out all night on Sunday night at the bar.
That’s not its purpose. It’s a day to remember those who lay and have laid down their lives for us to have the <span style="color: #3366ff;"><b>freedoms </b></span>to
take a day off, to have a BBQ, to spend the night getting drunk, to
shop for discount prices, and drive across the country because we <span style="color: red;"><b>choose</b></span>.
Celebrate it right, and no matter what you’re doing, remember, and say
thank you to the men and women in uniform, either in person, or at the
sites of their burials, for the sacrifice they made so that you have the <span style="color: white;"><b></b></span>to <span style="color: #3366ff;"><b>choose</b></span>.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0CO4f_Y9rkD7pOuAqhL15fD3bfkoyha1Ow990fZqIHvGBGpWusyyFaxEzPn6JqSnrxf0kxsAiMvWLh6K9noGWU1kRdDuuRz3akYSzcfhhGWaWnfOe26ZgdJEmo94msJTmq0risT59OM/s1600/american-flag-300x225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-0CO4f_Y9rkD7pOuAqhL15fD3bfkoyha1Ow990fZqIHvGBGpWusyyFaxEzPn6JqSnrxf0kxsAiMvWLh6K9noGWU1kRdDuuRz3akYSzcfhhGWaWnfOe26ZgdJEmo94msJTmq0risT59OM/s1600/american-flag-300x225.jpg" /></a><a href="http://blog.dwaynes-world.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/american-flag.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>To our troops, current and past, this blogger thanks you for all you do, for serving our country, and by extension, my <span style="color: #3366ff;"><b>freedom</b></span>, and to the soldiers and families of those soldiers who have lost their lives in their sacred <span style="color: white;"><b>chosen </b></span>duty to our nation, thank you for your sacrifice to keep the Land of the Free just that – <span style="color: #3366ff;">free</span>.<br />
Just sayin.<br />
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/nikki.hgomaa" target="_blank">Nikki H Gomaa</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"></span><br />
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I think this totally sums up Memorial Day. As you said above: Thank.<br />
You Men and Women for your Sacrifice, without it, we would not be free. Now let's Celebrate Our Freedom!</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1306674710" title="Sunday, May 29, 2011 at 8:11am">May 29, 2011 at 8:11am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/gshubin1" target="_blank">Gina Shubin</a> · Works at The Home Depot<br />
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That is very true. This says everything! Amen</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1306759106" title="Monday, May 30, 2011 at 7:38am">May 30, 2011 at 7:38am</abbr></div>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-83728873572858963152012-08-22T16:59:00.001-06:002012-08-22T21:17:49.362-06:00Birthday Wishes(Originally Posted 04/11/2011)<br />
<br />
Yeah, I know. Seems kinda selfish and pretentious to post my
birthday wishes on my blog page, but, because I care, and I realize that
some of you are stressing HARD about what you are going to do to
celebrate my special day, I am providing the following list for you.
Plus, it's my page and my birthday, dammit, so here they are! (You only
have 7 days left, so better hurry!)<br />
<br />
PS...I don't think any of these "wishes" are too much to ask...<br />
<ul>
<li><span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>A winning lottery ticke</b>t</span>.
Doesn't have to be "the big one," just a couple mil so that I can get
out of this goshforsaken debt! And throw a big party. PS - note the
key word in there...WINNING lottery ticket.</li>
<li><span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>Never hafta clean my bathroom again</b></span>.
Don't get me wrong - I need it cleaned, I just don't want to be the one
to clean it! I will do the rest of the house, but I HATE cleaning
bathrooms! If you volunteer to do this chore for me, then you will be
free from having to gift any other birthdays for the rest of my life!</li>
<li><span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>A new wardrobe</b></span>. While you at it, I need to <b><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;">lose about 90 more pound</span><span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;">s</span></span></b>, get rid of my <span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>widows peak</b></span>, and get some face work done (save the cracks, you jerks!). After that, you can throw in the wardrobe.</li>
<li>I needa meet <span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>Jake Gyllenhaal</b></span>.
Don't read into it! I just think he's a gifted actor and I love his
movies. If you love me, you will make it happen. 'Nuf said</li>
<li>I miss <span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>birthday cards from my family with $$$</b></span> in them! They stopped happening around the time I was 25. What’s that all about!??!!</li>
<li>Lower gas prices...again. I filled up my car the other day and it cost me nearly 60 bucks! WTF!!! <span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>A gas card perhaps!?</b></span> :D</li>
<li>A
little understanding and for people to swallow their own damn pride! I
am so sick of all of this crap where people are bashing each other
because of gender, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, etc. Get
over yourselves! Were all different - that's what keeps life
interesting.</li>
<li><span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>Get rid of the ENTIRE current population of our government</b></span>
and start over from scratch with people in those spots! Some of those
geezers have been there since dirt was invented and are more interested
in their own selves than the people the represent.</li>
<li><span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>The perfect relationship</b></span>!
No liars, not cheats, no losers, no wimps, no jealous drama laden
person who takes more than they give. Someone to spend my days and
nights with, good and bad. I know there out there! They just keep
eluding me! (Honestly, at this point, I would settle for A
relationship! Man, these nights are getting COLD!)</li>
<li>Did I mention a <span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>winning lottery ticket</b></span>?</li>
<li><span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>A second job</b></span>!
The industry is so bad right now and I am SOOOOO broke I can't pay for
that damn expensive gas to get back and forth to work! I'll do
anything! Just use me for something! I ain't picky! (Wait, that
sounds really bad! - don't be pervs!)</li>
<li><span data-mce-style="color: #33cccc;" style="color: #33cccc;"><b><I am reserving this spot for when I think of more things that I want for my birthday…> </b></span><span data-mce-style="color: #33cccc;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><b> <span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;">I<span style="background-color: white;">f you think of anything else I might want, let me know and I'll add it to the list! Maybe.</span></span></b></span><br /> </span></li>
</ul>
I
know, I know. Wishful thinking. Truth is, I'm alive, I'm relatively
healthy, I have the greatest kiddo one could ask for, and I have the
best friends and family that a person could ask for! I am going to
spend the evening out with them on Saturday to ring in my 36<sup>th</sup> (ugh) birthday, so that’s what will make me happy for my birthday. Plus, they are all obligated to buy me a shot!<br />
<br />
<span data-mce-style="color: #00ff00;" style="color: #6aa84f;"><b>PS – I wasn’t kidding about the gas card and $$$ in a card</b></span>! <b><span data-mce-style="color: #00ffff;" style="color: #0b5394;">Just sayin</span>.</b>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-85925890736942011102012-08-21T15:36:00.004-06:002012-08-22T21:14:34.464-06:00Geez...you would think I had just stabbed a priest or something!(Originally posted on 04/07/2011) <br />
<br />
I was going to say "shot the president," but I didn't feel the need
to have the FBI busting down my door within minutes of posting this!
Hmmmm...I wonder if they will since I said it in the body instead of the
title.<br />
<br />
Anywho, today, something interesting happened. And tho I have
been seeing this whole bigotry happening for a LOOOONNGGG time now, it
just really was shoved in my face today.<br />
<br />
First, I am sick. Like I
feel like hammered shit. I ache, sore throat, low grade temp, and I
took my day off to sleep and self medicate. Now I can't sleep, and I
still feel like shit, so blog here I am. Oops...off topic again.<br />
<br />
Anyway, at some point, I decided to make a run to the store to get some
of Sprite since none of my so called friends came by to check on me and
make sure I wasn't one foot in the grave. For the record, I am not,
thanks for asking! Anyway, I went to the store to get Sprite.<br />
<br />
As I
waited in line, I noticed that I was low on cigarettes and decided to
stock up. Not that I was smoking much today cause my throat is sore and
none of my friends came to check up on me. But I digress again. After
waiting nearly 10 minutes with my 2 liter of overpriced soda behind the
gramps who sorted through his retirement plan (aka, lottery ticket
purchases) for which he paid in quarters and dimes, I finally made it to
the counter. I placed my soda on the counter and placed my well
rehearsed order for my cancer in a box.<br />
<br />
Of course, they didn't have
them out on display...they had to go dig for my brand as the shipment
just came in. While I wait patiently, a very large woman (to quote
Keiser....orca big) cleared her throat and proceeded to lecture me on
the dangers of smoking. The conversation went something like this:<br />
<br />
<span data-mce-style="color: #ff0000;" style="color: #cc0000;">Shamu</span>: You do know that those things will kill you, don't you?<br />
<div data-mce-style="text-align: right;" style="text-align: right;">
<span data-mce-style="color: #3366ff;" style="color: #3366ff;">I
notice at this point that she is holding onto 3 convenient store hot
dogs, large bag of chips, and diet cola in her hands, not to mention the
king sized candy bar in her pocket. So I say in a very loud and
praising voice...</span></div>
<span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #bf9000;">Me</span>: Oh My Gosh! I had no idea!! Thank you, oh Thank you for saving my life!!!!<br />
<div data-mce-style="text-align: right;" style="text-align: right;">
<span data-mce-style="color: #3366ff;" style="color: #3366ff;">Then I rolled my eyes and turned away</span></div>
<span data-mce-style="color: #ff0000;" style="color: red;">Shamu</span>: I'm being serious! Smoking kills!<br />
<span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #bf9000;">Me</span>: And that extra 600 pounds you are carrying around on your waist, kneecaps, and cankles won't kill you?<br />
<div data-mce-style="text-align: right;" style="text-align: right;">
<span data-mce-style="color: #3366ff;" style="color: #3366ff;">Those of you that know me know that I speak my mind...especially when I am in a foul mood...</span></div>
<div data-mce-style="text-align: left;" style="text-align: left;">
<span data-mce-style="color: #ff0000;" style="color: red;">Shamu</span>: There is no need to judge me!</div>
<span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #bf9000;">Me</span>: That's the pot calling the kettle black!<br />
<span data-mce-style="color: #ff0000;" style="color: red;">Shamu</span>: Excuse me!<br />
<div data-mce-style="text-align: right;" style="text-align: right;">
<span data-mce-style="color: #0000ff;" style="color: blue;">At
this point, she shifts her hefty weight onto one leg, and begins
bobbing her head. I might also mention at this point that Shamu is
"African American"</span></div>
<div data-mce-style="text-align: left;" style="text-align: left;">
<span data-mce-style="color: #ffff00;" style="color: #bf9000;">Me</span>: Just mind your own fuchin business and leave me alone.</div>
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Around
this time, the cashier returns with my death in a box, I pay my sin
tax, and am on my way. It got me to thinking. Why the hell am I being
judged because I like to smoke. Yes, I like to smoke. And I am being
judged by not only Orca lady, but by society in general! We sit and
bitch and moan about being judgmental all day long and twice on
Sunday! We get upset if someone says something or post something or
believes in something contrary to what we believe, sometimes going to
war over it! Yet, it is okay for people as a society to decide that my
choice of bad habits is taboo and therefore okay to judge me on it?<br />
<br />
As
I drove home thinking about Orca lady, I lit up, rolled down my window
and turned on my music to relax. I am at a stop light, and the lady in
the car next to me actually had the nerve to ask me to roll up my window
because the smoke was making her sick. I nearly flicked my cigarette
in her car...which, by the way, was loaded down with empty beer cans in
the back seat and a case in the front seat - not that I am judging or
anything.<br />
<br />
I was fuming, but like usual, I swallowed my pride, ran the light, and went home to take more meds and sleep some more.<br />
<br />
It all comes down to this...<br />
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The
jackasses that run our country decided that they didn't want to risk
another prohibition (for those of you in our current education system -
that was when they actually outlawed alcohol and it was an abysmal
failure, but I don't expect you to know that - not because you weren't
taught that - you were, but because you are not held accountable for
your own education, so you don't bother to learn, and then blame the
teachers for it - ugh - sorry - sick and on the soap box) decided that
smoking should be taboo, and the process of turning it into a social
outcast activity began.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLurdkyRq96CE2D1_oGscRmfACPlM6rrw1jbZ1lsjuUuFhjfvImuQC6GX-cR0yqvW_bEtIwN-OF_96-2u0MM4w4nalxuRpPdS8oHCDCFKHhjedQztR3Xy18RqmicHicMFe50aqaDcHk0/s1600/nosmoking.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLurdkyRq96CE2D1_oGscRmfACPlM6rrw1jbZ1lsjuUuFhjfvImuQC6GX-cR0yqvW_bEtIwN-OF_96-2u0MM4w4nalxuRpPdS8oHCDCFKHhjedQztR3Xy18RqmicHicMFe50aqaDcHk0/s320/nosmoking.gif" width="320" /></a>First, it became illegal to smoke on
federal or state property, including public schools, libraries, court
houses, etc. Okay. I can deal with that.<br />
<br />
Next, a sin tax is
posed on cigarettes (along with other things that are considered
socially amoral, even though they are practiced by pretty much
everyone). Supposedly, the money that was garnered from the sin tax was
suppose to go towards education, but keep in mind that teachers are
being laid off left and right, so we know it didn't go where it was
suppose to. Ugh - stay on topic, Dwayne.<br />
<br />
Next, it became legal
for private corporations and companies to ban smoking on their
properties - this long after the federal and state owned properties
became non-smoking. So now, my job included, I am not allowed to
smoke...I have to cross the street. I can't even sit in my car and
smoke.<br />
<br />
THEN - cities and states decided that it is not okay to
smoke in restaurants and bars...I am okay with restaurants, but in
bars! Next they will be telling me that I can't even smoke in my own
home!<br />
So now, not only am I severely limited on where I can smoke,
I pay out the ass to do so, and I get treated like I just stabbed a
priest or held up a dead baby sign while doing so. And the RIGHT to
smoke is still being chiseled away.<br />
<br />
I am incensed because I make a
choice to smoke. I like to smoke. I like the way that it relaxes me.
I wish it didn't have the bad smell that comes with it, but to be
honest, as a smoker, I like the smell! And I miss it when I don't smoke
for a long period of time. The point is...ITS MY CHOICE! And by
choice, I do NOT smoke in restaurants. I do not smoke in my own car
when other people are in it with me. I do not smoke in non smoking
areas. I do not smoke in other peoples home or cars. I DO smoke in
bars because that is when I like to smoke the most-unless, of course,
the bar is non-smoking. Then I just don't go there. I don't smoke at
home all that often. I smoke at work when it gets stressful. My point
is...I DO NOT push my smoking habit off on other people. So why, oh
why, does society decide to push their NON-SMOKING off on me!<br />
<br />
I
realize that it is just a taboo thing to do, but some people make it out
to be worse than farting in a crowded elevator or peeing in a public
drinking fountain. If you don't want to smoke, then don't smoke. Your
choice. I want to smoke. I accept the risk of my choice. I realize
that it will kill me someday, but then again, if it doesn't then
something else will. Just keep your damn mouth shut unless I am
breaking the rules and smoking in a place where it is not allowed.<br />
<br />
Before
you start throwing stones (not just the individual - but society in
general), take a look at some of the stuff that you do in your own
home! How about I start pushing for lobbying against that? How about
something that you enjoy doing (moral or amoral) becomes a social taboo
just because someone else disagrees with it? I thought this was country
of freedom? Remember, when you are pointing at someone, you are point
four fingers right back at yourself.<br />
<br />
Also remember this - if
smoking is allowed, I am going to smoke. If you don't like it, move to a
non-smoking area. Its my choice...I am not pushing it off on
you...don't push your choice off on me. And for the record - OUTDOORS
is a SMOKING AREA! If I am the required 50 feet away from the door of a
building, then I am OUTDOORS and I WILL SMOKE. Don't walk into my
cloud to tell me it is bothering you. Walk the other way.<br />
<br />
I'm just saying. Ignore my rants...I'm sick and irritated. Tomorrow I will be better.<br />
<br />
PS
- I jest about my friends not checking in - mom texted, and several of
my buddies did call and check up or made post...but for those of you who
didn't = >raspberry on you!<br />
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/sarah.rivers.35" target="_blank">Sarah Rivers</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"> · Northeastern State University</span><br />
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Dwayne,
you are absolutely right. I personally choose not to smoke. I grew up
with my parents who were heavy smokers and got asked one time (by Mr.
Rose - the HS principal) if I smoked because I always smelled like it. I
was so embarassed. That alone made me not want to. But we do live in a
society where we are automatically judged by what we do. We could be
the greatest, most kind, giving person in the world...but God forbid we
have a habit that society deems wrong. That's instant grounds for
execution. It is your right to choose to smoke just like it's my right
to choose not to. My hats off to you Dwayne.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1302185459" title="Thursday, April 7, 2011 at 9:10am">April 7, 2011 at 9:10am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/roman.a.guerra.7" target="_blank">Roman A. Guerra</a> · English Teacher JV Baseball coach at Edcouch-Elsa ISD<br />
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Very
well said D. I agree with you that everyone wants to push their views
on you though you clearly state you CHOOSE to smoke. You know I don't
smoke, but I did have cancer. Yet, I still feel it is up to that person.
I have nothing against you smoking, but like you said, just don't do it
where you're not supposed to. Everyone else can S**K it! LOL ps the
teacher stuff is awesome as well.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1302153033" title="Thursday, April 7, 2011 at 12:10am">April 7, 2011 at 12:10am</abbr></div>
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I am just going to start the campaign...I will vote Dwayne Isbell in 2012!</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1302183914" title="Thursday, April 7, 2011 at 8:45am">April 7, 2011 at 8:45am</abbr></div>
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/etasha.ruggs" target="_blank">Etasha Ruggs</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"></span><br />
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Oh how I love this! I am singing your praises to all that can hear.</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1302221143" title="Thursday, April 7, 2011 at 7:05pm">April 7, 2011 at 7:05pm</abbr></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-48988361577681269402012-08-21T15:27:00.001-06:002012-08-21T15:27:14.419-06:00New Office Policy(Originally Posted 03/29/2011_ <br />
<br />
I just thought this was funny as hell and decided to share:<br />
<br />
<strong>NEW OFFICE POLICY</strong><br />
<strong>Dress Code:</strong><br />
You are advised to come to work dressed according to your salary.<br />
<ol>
<li>If we see you wearing Prada shoes and carrying a Gucci bag, we will
assume you are doing well financially and therefore do not need a raise.</li>
<li>If you dress poorly, you need to learn to manage your money better, so
that you may buy nicer clothes, and therefore you do not need a raise.</li>
<li>If you dress just right, you are right where you need to be and therefore you do not need a raise.<strong> </strong></li>
</ol>
<strong>Sick Days:</strong><br />
We will no longer accept a doctor's statement as proof of sickness. If
you are able to go to the doctor, you are able to come to work.<strong></strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Personal Days:</strong><br /> Each employee will receive 104 personal days a year.<br /> They are called Saturdays & Sundays. <strong></strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Bereavement Leave:</strong><br />
This is no excuse for missing work. There is nothing you can do for
dead friends, relatives or co-workers. Every effort should be made to
have non-employees attend the funeral arrangements in your place. In
rare cases where employee involvement is necessary, the funeral should
be scheduled in the late afternoon. We will be glad to allow you to work
through your lunch hour and subsequently leave one hour early.<strong></strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Bathroom Breaks:</strong><br /> Entirely too much time is being spent in the toilet.<br /><br />
There is now a strict three-minute time limit in the stalls. At the end
of three minutes, an alarm will sound, the toilet paper roll will
retract, the stall door will open, and a picture will be taken. After
your second offense, your picture will be posted on the company bulletin
board under the 'Chronic Offenders' category. Anyone caught smiling in
the picture will be sectioned under the company's mental health policy.<strong></strong><br />
<br />
<strong>Lunch Break:</strong><br /> * Skinny people get 30 minutes for lunch, as they need to eat more, so that they can look healthy.<br />
* Normal size people get 15 minutes for lunch to get a balanced meal to maintain their average figure.<br />
* Chubby people get 5 minutes for lunch, because that's all the time needed to drink a Slim-Fast.<br />
<br />
Thank
you for your loyalty to our company. We are here to provide a positive
employment experience. Therefore, all questions, comments, concerns,
complaints, frustrations, irritations, aggravations, insinuations,
allegations, accusations, contemplations, consternation and input should
be directed elsewhere.<br /> <strong>The Management</strong><br /><br />
Pass this on to all who are employed!<br />
<br />
(if
this belongs to you and you don't want me to share it or complain about
me posting it, then just say so...I'll remove it and post something
more interesting by someone else who wants their stuff out there!)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-18479400729710962592012-08-21T15:18:00.002-06:002012-08-21T15:24:51.485-06:00She's a tax write off, thus she is property...(Originally Published 12/18/2011)<br />
<br />
...thus, I have the right to protect my property!<br />
<br />
I really
should be in bed, trying to get some sleep, but I just can't sleep. So
I'll blog instead. So I was looking at little one today, and I have
told y'all this many times, but I really feel sorry for my kiddo she
starts growing up!<br />
<br />
Did you know that they won't let you implant a
GPS chip into you kids? Something about it being unethical or that they
have rights too or privacy invasion, and all that other Republican
bull. But here's my theory! She is a tax write off! She is "property"
until she is 18. And don't I have a right to protect my property? I
mean, seriously...I can chip my dog but not my baby girl?<br />
<br />
They
tell me that I can put a GPS in her tennis shoe or in her bunny or in
her backpack. We even bought her a kids cell phone awhile back that had
GPS tracking in it. But, there is no guarantee that this stuff will be
with her all the time. If some creep or sicko snatches her off the
street, or she gets lost, or something I don't even want to think about,
then all I have to do is log in and track her down if the chip is
implanted!! Seems logical to me! Its not like I would keep tabs on her
when she is a teenager to make sure she is where she says she will be.
Well, maybe I would, but still, that a whole other issue.<br />
<br />
Seriously,
tho, anybody who knows anything about me knows that I think of my child
as way more than a tax write off. But I worry about her every day. You
always see these kiddos that get snatched or vanish all the time. Or
those that run off and are never seen again. I don't see what's wrong
with implanting a GPS device to keep tabs on her. But since they won't
let me do so, then I will just hafta be that overbearing father.<br />
The
other day, she came home and said "Daddy, I think this boy in my class
likes me!" I asked her who it was, and she refused to tell me because
she thinks I will go hurt him for even looking at my baby girl, my
angel, the apple of my eye. I told her she might as well tell me
because I will just hafta take out every boy in her class...that way I
can be sure I got the one who is looking in her direction!<br />
<br />
I do
hafta feel sorry for her because I often tell her that the day that she
starts to sprout booblets, I am going to lock her in the basement until I
pick her husband for her. I remember what I was like at that age as a
boy...all I thought about was one thing...and I know these little boys
out there are the same way. I get it...she's only 9, but she's my baby
girl and I will protect her and hold on to her until the bitter end.<br />
Me
and Connie have a plan...if that time comes that some sicko tries
something (no, not the little boys that she will want to eventually date
because there is a different plan for them...but if some sicko tries to
kidnap her or do other unspeakable things to her), we have a plan. She
says that she is a nurse and has access to drugs that disappear in the
system and leave no traces. I have the alibi all set up ("Mom...I was
with you last night...no questions ask"). We have to torture site all
set up (what, did you think that we would dispose of him or her
outright? No...there will be punishment - and we do mean punishment).
And we know where we would bury the body.<br />
<br />
I jest, of course (but
don't try me, or I will hafta put the plan into motion!), but it is
scary in this world. And trying to protect my little one while at the
same time trying to raise her right and having to let her go to school
every day and her continual requirements to individuality is a daunting
task for a dad!<br />
<br />
When she starts bringing home boys she likes, I am
going to have some serious fun. Time to embarrass her across the board
(baby pics and videos, wearing my white trash overalls and calling her
mother "ma"), and then the very serious "Son, do you see that shotgun
hanging on the wall...I know how to use it and I am not afraid to go
back to jail" will become standard conversation. That poor kid will know
that he will be separated from his junk if that junk comes anywhere
near my kid. I will be in seat behind them at the theater (or the seat
between them), I will be in the back seat of the car when they are
driving, I will be at the next table at the theater, and if he even
glances at a hotel or his house, my shotgun will be against his temple.
Think Trunk Monkey Chaperone (if you haven't seen that clip, <a data-mce-href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YLmh5iDIhw" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YLmh5iDIhw" target="_blank" title="Trunk Monkey Chaperone">click here</a>...it is hi-larious!). I will be the chaperone at her school dances, events, etc. I will ALWAYS be there!<br />
<br />
When
she is out, I will pace her in my car and ensure she is safe. I won't
interfere unless I hafto, but I will be there. Will hafta quit my job
and spend my entire days and nights protecting her. Parties will be at
my house. Windows nailed shut so no sneaking out. I will go through
her Facebook, her phone, E-mail, etc.<br />
<br />
You all know I won't do all
this (maybe)...but I tell ya, being a dad for a little girl is HARD
work! I get more grey hair from just stressing about what the world is
going to be for her when its time for her to go out into it. People
suck, and she deserves the best. And this Dad is going to do everything
in his power to make sure she is safe to have the best.<br />
<br />
Some tell
me that she will need therapy after all the over parenting that I am
planning on. Well, then, I will just hafta pay for therapy.<br />
<br />
Just saying.<br />
<br />
Oh, and, I am serious about the GPS thing. Who's on board??<br />
<br />
________________________________<br />
Comment to Original Post<br />
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/bethany.faulkner.501" target="_blank">Bethany Faulkner</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"></span><br />
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Dwayne,
stop trying to 1984 Big Brother your daughter! I understand,
though...Just the thought of kids makes me think a GPS would not be to
bad...</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1301329099" title="Monday, March 28, 2011 at 11:18am">March 28, 2011 at 11:18am</abbr> </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-626021450464600182012-08-21T15:14:00.001-06:002012-08-21T15:23:07.515-06:00To Move or Not to Move...That is the Question...(Originally Posted 03/26/2011)<br />
<br />
First off, I decided that I am going to put off the Dear Mr.
President post for awhile...it was good, but I've totally lost
interest. For now. He will eventually piss me off, or something else
will happen in our very backwards, infantile, stupid society that I can
point at him, or our governor, or someone else who considers themselves
to be infinitely superior in their wisdom only to actually be screwing
over our country.<br />
<br />
Nonetheless, something else of import has been on my
mind lately...my upcoming move...<br />
Some of you don't know the whole
back story, so here is a recap. I got married ... YOUNG!!! Like at 20
years old. Or was it 21? Don't really remember cause it was like a
hundred years ago. I didn't get married cause I had to (ie, she wasn't
knocked up...I know...hard for some to understand in this part of the
country), but because I was blinded with love. I know, sounds hokey,
but its the way it is.<br />
<br />
Anywho, during the 9 years that we were hitched,
we managed to reproduce, and I have a wonderful, talented, and
beautiful daughter. In the end, our marriage ended about 5 years ago.
It wasn't something bad...we went our separate ways, and decided to put
the interest of our daughter first, and managed to end up as friends.
Sure it was tough, and I talked some serious shit, as did she, but as of
today, we are good friends, and our daughter has never had to endure
fighting, divorced parents. But that whole mess is another story.<br />
<br />
About
a year and a half ago, she met a guy...lets call him
dumbass...primarily because I am not too fond of him, but he made Connie
(my ex) happy (and he WON'T end up on the cast list because he's out of
the picture...more on that later), so I let it go. In the process of
their relationship, he moved to Denver, Colorado (much to my happiness)
and they began a year long, long distance relationship. She traveled
back and forth to Denver, climbed mountains, went hiking, etc. and
basically fell in love with Denver. She has always been an outdoorsy
person, and I'm glad she found something that keeps her happy. She
decided awhile back that she wants to move out of San Antonio. There
are many reason why, but the primary reason is (and I happen to agree
with her) is that we are not so sure that we want her raised in a part
of the country where its is fashionable to be knocked up at 15. If you
look it up, South Texas is a place high on the charts for teen
pregnancy. And, sadly, I don't want to end up in prison because I
maimed and killed the boy who put his hands on my child. But I
digress.<br />
<br />
Obviously, her chosen location for moving was Denver,
Colorado, and, even though I don't want to admit it, I understand her
choosing of that location...why should she not want to be near her
boyfriend. And Denver is not all that bad...I guess.<br />
<br />
HOWEVER...about
2 months ago, she and dumbass when their separate ways. That is, she
dumped him. Not that I will admit it to her, but I was a little happy
about that. Please don't think that I was happy because another man was
not longer with my ex-wife...I am so past that...I was happy because I
didn't care for the way he assumed that he was going to be my daughters
new daddy...me and Amy are VERY close...and she even told him that he
wasn't going to be her new daddy, but he persisted (which is the reason
that I didn't like him). So, when she kicked him to the curb, I was
pretty happy about her decision. However, her desire to move to Denver
didn't go away with the dumping of the looser.<br />
Back to the present...<br />
<br />
With
dumbass out of the way, I figured that Connie's desire to transplant
across the country to Denver would be out the window. Not so. She
still wants to move there because she is in love with the mountains, and
she wants to get the hell out of Texas. Here is the clencher...while
we are divorced, we do share joint custody of our daughter. We share
her outright, and she doesn't feel the strife of our divorce. She has
grown up with mommy and daddy, and me and my daughter are very tight.
Either way, Texas ALWAYS favors the mom, and in the process of divorce,
she was granted custodial parent.<br />
<br />
For those of you not familiar
with the concept of joint custody, each parent is assigned a role...one
is the custodial parent and the other is non-custodial parent. All of
the rights are exactly same save one...the custodial parent gets to
decide where the kiddo lives. She has the "right." While she has
discussed it with me, and she didn't have to, she has decided that when
she moves, Amy is going with her. Kinda leaves me in a position that I
am not at all happy with. I can stay here and Amy becomes an airplane
child, or I can pack up and follow along so I can see my child everyday
like I do now. Its really not a tough choice.<br />
To further
complicate things, I agreed to spend a week in Denver with Connie and
Amy so that I could see the sites and see what I thought of Denver. I
had been there once during my 2nd year of college, but as we were there
on a competition, we really didn't get to do much but compete. I spend
the week in Denver over spring break this year, and I had a great
time!! I got to see my sister, see the sites, check out the night life,
and look around at different locations and job opps. Just made things
harder. And I actually happen to like Denver. But I also have several
reasons to stay in SA.<br />
<br />
I do have reservations, and many people aren't happy with my pending decision. There are some pros and cons to this whole mess<br />
<div data-mce-style="text-align: center;" style="text-align: center;">
<b>Pro's to moving out of SA</b></div>
<ul>
<li>There
are MANY bad memories in San Antonio from a previous "relationship"
that I endured for way too long. I am still feeling the burn from it,
and it would be very nice to move to a location where I don't run into
people and places where I am reminded of it all the time. Even better, I
stand NO chance of running into the person with whom I had this
relationship. It was long, it was bad, and I'm better to be out of
it...but its still in my face.</li>
<li>The post SWISD fallout is still
happening. Another long story, but I left my job at my last high school
teaching position under less that good conditions. No, I didn't molest
anyone, nor did I steal, lie, or cheat. I just had a difference of
opinion with a now-school board member on what constitutes a teachers
personal life, and look where we are now. Nonetheless, this, tripled
with the fact that we are in an recession, teachers are being laid off
left and right, and the fact that I have a Masters degree (I am told way
too often I am over qualified), finding a job here has been less than
successful. I work, but it's not enough to make end meet.</li>
<li>My
sister is in Denver. Me and my sister are VERY close!!! I was so happy
to get to see her and her husband when I visited Denver over spring
break, and I do not have any family close to me where I live now, so
having her close would be a very nice change.</li>
<li>Of course, the single most important reason that Denver is where my beloved daughter will be living.</li>
</ul>
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<b>Con's to moving out of SA</b></div>
<ul>
<li>I
love my job here. I work as an adjunct at the highest level an adjunct
can go at a local vocational school, and I have grown to love my
students and coworkers, and, yes, even my boss. But it has taken me 5
years to get to the position I am in. Do you have any idea how hard it
is to train a dean? Especially my dean? I don't have to justify my
decisions anymore (ie, I am trusted), and I actually have students who
request me as their teacher! I love being there. Now, there are
branches of this campus all over the USA, and I can even transfer to the
branch in Denver, but I will still be starting over at this school (my 5
years transfers, but the trust and relationships with faculty, staff,
and administration do not).</li>
<li>I have developed some relationships
with some people here that I don't want to abandon. Since I do not have
family in this part of the state (the closest that I am close to is my
mom, dad, brother and nephew whom all live in Lubbock where I grew up), I
have made friends here that are my surrogate family. Vinnie, Frenchy,
Shanna, Shannon, Anti and cheeks, and even my boys at my favorite bar
have all become very important to me. Most of these people have become
like family, and they support me in all my (mis)adventures, and I them.
I will miss them terribly, and I dread starting over building
relationship with people in any form or fashion.</li>
<li>If I don't
move, my kiddo will have to become an airplane child, or I will have to
spend ohhkoos of money I don't have to fly back and forth to see her. I
have been with her practically every day since she was born, even
through the divorce, and I refuse to have that taken away by a thousand
miles.</li>
</ul>
Any way I cut it, I am moving. The move was
scheduled to take place this summer after Amy's classes got out for the
summer. However, due to Connie's house not selling yet, I have a
temporary reprieve. For now, we have postponed the move to next summer,
but if her house sells, then it could be any time between now and
then. I know...why the hell am I moving for the sake of my ex-wife? I
do not like making this decisions. She told me last night that Denver
is not the required destination, but she is moving and wants my input.
She wants to be near the mountains is her major requirement. What the
hell do I do now! In the end, wherever Amy goes, I go. Sigh.<br />
<br />
Comments welcome.<br />
<br />
Go forth and do great things.<br />
<br />
_________________________________<br />
Comment to Original Post:<br />
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<a class="profileName" href="https://www.facebook.com/joshncheri" target="_blank">Josh N Cheri Rodriguez</a><span class="fsm fwn fcg"> · Works at Oliver W Holmes High School</span><br />
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You
are one hell of a dad. While you are a great person and a great friend
none of those titles compare to the type of dad that you are. Leaving
SA (assuming the move occurs) will be tough but I cant ever recall
change being easy in my life but I do know that whatever challenges
change has brought, I have have always overcome them and I believe you
can too. Have fun with your daughter, I know that's the choice I would
make. Good luck buddy!</div>
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<abbr data-utime="1301180091" title="Saturday, March 26, 2011 at 5:54pm">March 26, 2011 at 5:54pm</abbr></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-79258296055480607162012-08-21T15:07:00.001-06:002012-08-22T20:06:22.018-06:00Here's my kids name and address - please kidnap them(Originally Posted 03/05/2011)<br />
<br />
<span data-mce-style="color: #00ff00;" style="color: lime;">Bet that post title got your attention!</span><br />
So
before I begin this muse, I have actually had several people ask when I
am going to post again. I have been working on a bad ass post titled "<span data-mce-style="color: #0000ff;" style="color: blue;">Dear Mr. President (and related underlings)</span>"
and its a good 'un (I actually say "What the hell are you doing up
Weinerberger Way?"), so I have been spending a lot of time on it. So to
those of you anxiously waiting on the edge of your desk chair for my
next meaningless bit of drivel, here is something to hold you over...<br />
I
was driving to work this morning, and I see yet another one of those
cutesy family decals. You know, the ones that have the little stick
figures with the family name, the names of every person in the family,
the dogs name, the cats name, the goldfish's name, the parakeets name,
the neighbor's second cousin's hairdressers name, etc. It blows my mind
that people (especially people with kids) do this! Even worse are
those decals that have the kids name, the sport/activities they
participate in, and the name of the school they go to. This is like
putting a big sign on top of your car that says<br />
<blockquote>
<span data-mce-style="color: #ff0000;" style="color: red;">"Here
is my kids name and where they go to school. Please come kidnap them.
Oh, and if school time in inconvenient for you, please write down my
license plate number so you can look up my address and come to my house
where my kids are and rob me while you at it."</span></blockquote>
Let me translate a few of these for you...<br />
<br />
<a data-mce-href="http://blog.dwaynes-world.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/familycarsticker_truck_400tn.jpg" href="http://blog.dwaynes-world.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/familycarsticker_truck_400tn.jpg"></a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXjz78hl6pz5A-OD_-6BtZjIjx5NpCyTdgUMqvnO9vp0bHrW5gXTR9c3Sw0OVmegYOvHS5F9zGmbQN-uvocxz4MdeLxoXZr9uvOnTQ_2uWJOm98wRwbIthYGJYs7lX8G2o_2TUF-QDI4M/s1600/familycarsticker_truck_400tn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXjz78hl6pz5A-OD_-6BtZjIjx5NpCyTdgUMqvnO9vp0bHrW5gXTR9c3Sw0OVmegYOvHS5F9zGmbQN-uvocxz4MdeLxoXZr9uvOnTQ_2uWJOm98wRwbIthYGJYs7lX8G2o_2TUF-QDI4M/s1600/familycarsticker_truck_400tn.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This
lovely family goes so far as to NOT give the mom and dads name (how
convenient), but little Mike, Jill and John Jones are not so lucky!
Even more so, John is a younger un, meaning that he doesn't know enough
to run when someone say "Lil John...would you like some candy?" "Mom"
and "Dad" may hafta peel one of those decals off soon...or just put a
big red X over it so future psycho's know that ones already taken.<br />
<br />
<a data-mce-href="http://blog.dwaynes-world.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/sportsfade1.jpg" href="http://blog.dwaynes-world.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/sportsfade1.jpg"></a><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0iHj26SnDsqzuyI3xic6_MNFtQDg2VV8-H-3P0QL_d9JQ6RZ5VIWwg1CzybpX1wV7uNTjvIsno3GPfXsPlyrCDn_PMfKuhZZ4kloBpF2blpRHYnaWrlHAlElHD5OzaembaKvvvGvw5ck/s1600/sportsfade1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0iHj26SnDsqzuyI3xic6_MNFtQDg2VV8-H-3P0QL_d9JQ6RZ5VIWwg1CzybpX1wV7uNTjvIsno3GPfXsPlyrCDn_PMfKuhZZ4kloBpF2blpRHYnaWrlHAlElHD5OzaembaKvvvGvw5ck/s320/sportsfade1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Ah,
this lovely presentation is a ripe example of a calling card for a
sicko. This one says "Hi! My son play Soccer! His name is Dennis.
Since he is a soccer player for the high school, you can bet he's in
great shape. Go check him out! If you not sure which one he is, just
go to JHS after the last bell rings and hang around the soccer field.
Call his name out like your a fan! Heck, I bet some of the other kids
and pedophiles will point him out for you!<br />
<a data-mce-href="http://blog.dwaynes-world.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/sportsfade2.jpg" href="http://blog.dwaynes-world.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2011/03/sportsfade2.jpg"></a><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl5rXJlX0Jklw4HpDkKju_72yMIAiyoIeZRVaSug9EZdCQYaINzJcLgeuzW25c9iKS0JlNgcG19hWBzEHEkxUFC5H4m1noLoSgfAP87fguQ7QbmYHmPSKVT6FKcCwLDVYwHXIJOO72xOw/s1600/sportsfade2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl5rXJlX0Jklw4HpDkKju_72yMIAiyoIeZRVaSug9EZdCQYaINzJcLgeuzW25c9iKS0JlNgcG19hWBzEHEkxUFC5H4m1noLoSgfAP87fguQ7QbmYHmPSKVT6FKcCwLDVYwHXIJOO72xOw/s320/sportsfade2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
This
family goes one step further and says "If young boys aren't your thing,
then my Michael might not be for you. But, heck! I got a young girl
for you! She goes to the same school as Michael, and her name is
Arabella! She will be the one wearing the tights in the Gym. Just ask
for her!"<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_DqV2VTuYdLGpyPAE5Yy2-Iz6aoRZsgFRVzBvmkHMupVMgD_-THQ3Ne0g989YCkoD-RASe3cJAuQM2DcLvtuhDCq-EeanqN1R212z63d4tMsjKd6nNmq8yeiAGNJJnqOR4m5UXbETJE/s1600/sample5.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_DqV2VTuYdLGpyPAE5Yy2-Iz6aoRZsgFRVzBvmkHMupVMgD_-THQ3Ne0g989YCkoD-RASe3cJAuQM2DcLvtuhDCq-EeanqN1R212z63d4tMsjKd6nNmq8yeiAGNJJnqOR4m5UXbETJE/s1600/sample5.gif" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Not
all of these are so bad! This one is actually kinda funny. Especially
"Jack"! It still gives away too much information (I have a young boy
and girl, and mom looks like a blond ditz and dad, well, dad doesn't
have too much going on upstairs!) and I can easily find you via License
Plate.<br />
<br />
I'm just saying. There are some SICK SICK SICK people in this world! Get a clue, people!<br />
Go forth and do great things (and I will get that President post out asap!)<br />
<h5>
*PS
- I got all of theses images from the Internet via Google Images. If
they belong to you and you are not happy with me using them, then let me
know...I will find someone else's to use and show off their art
instead. Just saying.</h5>
<h5>
*PPS - I just noticed that I now have 23 people registered for my blog! NICE! And mom is one of them! Thanks, Mom! :)</h5>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-6371193193482632292012-08-21T15:02:00.001-06:002012-08-22T19:51:38.897-06:00Typical Wednesday Night(Originally Posted 04/22/2011)<br />
<br />
So, here it is...my first post (well, technically, my second, but the
first one I was so freaked out that I didn't know what the hell I was
doing, much like the first time I had sex, but that's a whole different
story). Where was I...oh, yes...my first/second post...contain your
excitement and all over body tingling! It was bound to happen, and now
it is here, and the usual disappointment will set in eventually. But
then, you get to start over with the anticipation for my next post.
Tonight's is just a daily happenings, with a little musing...<br />
So I
screwed up a bit today. At the tech school where I work at, we hafta
makeup any classes that we miss. Well, when San Antonio had that snow
fart (as opposed to a snow storm) a few weeks ago, the school closed for
the first time in the five years I have graced its halls. As such, we
had to make up that class. In addition, we had two holidays this
quarter, so that means that the classes on those days had to be
rescheduled as well. So, I ended up with two make up classes this week,
which is kinda bummer, because they had to be scheduled on the nights
that I usually have off during the week, meaning that I worked 6 days
this week. But, I digress. So when we were scheduling these makeup
classes, I accidentally put the wrong date in my phone (if you know me,
you know I live by my phone...I would be LOST if I ever lost my
phone...not to mention, mortified by the pics in my phone), and when I
sent out the reminder, I told everyone to be there on Thursday evening
for the makeup class...that is, both classes on one night. Now, I'm
good...like really good...at my job, but trying to teach two different
classes at the same time may be beyond even me. But I had a plan...or
so I thought.<br />
I went about my day, and about 550PM, I get a text
from one of my students asking me what room we were meeting in for the
makeup class. I told him that it was on Thursday night, and he
corrected me. I realized I screwed up, and now had only 5 minutes to
get to class. I wasn't going to hafta teach two classes at the same
time on the same night, but now I was gonna be late for the class I had
tonight! I quickly showered, dressed, and hauled butt out the door,
sending text to students that I was on my way...and I arrived 30 minutes
late to work. And it was a total disappointment because when I got
there, only 3 people out of 17 showed up for the makeup class. What the
hell am I suppose to do with only 3 students. So we went to lab, and
worked on makeup work and projects. No lecture, no exercises, etc. But
we had a good time, and learned a little...I hope. Basically, I sat
there and twiddled my thumbs for 4 hours.<br />
So while we are killing
the time, in walks Anti and Cheeks (see the Cast page for who these
people are) and brighten up my evening. Anti is one of those people who
has a wise crack for everything, but she is pretty awesome. Cheeks is
there, and throws in her two cents, and usually, it is funny.
Nonetheless, they saw me suffering in silence, and came to cheer me up.
We spent the next 2 hours making fun of people (one of my favorite
pastimes) and pretending to look busy. All in all, it made the time go
fast. We sat outside, smoked, and discussed who we thought was
attractive and weekend plans. And continued making fun of people. I
was in the middle of a wisecrack, the text came...<br />
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<br />
<br />
If
you don't know the story of Hooker (again, see the cast page), then
this probably doesn't mean much, but needless to say he is a very bad
person and the only person on my loath/hate list. I knew he was in alot
of legal trouble and have had nothing to do with him since early
October, and was very excited to hear that he was being arrested. My
class was already on the way out the door, so I jumped in Boris (cast
page), and hauled butt home...literally, I made it from I10/DeZavala to
410/Culebra in less than 10 minutes...hauled it in the house, and jumped
in front of the TV. I was tingly...I was excited...<br />
<div data-mce-style="text-align: right;" style="text-align: right;">
<span data-mce-style="color: #00ffff;" style="color: cyan;">side note...I
know it is not nice to hope someone goes to jail...you hafta know the
whole back story and you would understand...okay, sidenote over...</span></div>
and
when the story came on, it was NOT him! It was someone who looked like
him, but, nonetheless, it was not him. Someone got me all excited for
NOTHING!!! I sat there for like 10 minutes totally disappointed. I
started dwelling on the past, and I had made a promise to myself New
Years that I wasn't going to do that. I wasn't going to let him or
anyone make me think less of myself and bring me down, or go back to
that person I was when we hung out.<br />
SOOOOO...last night, after the
disappointing newscast, I came to a realization...I made it through. I
survived him and all his crap. I survived and am much better for
it. I learned alot from the situation, and, though I have been letting
go a little at a time since October, I was able to let a little more go
last night. I wasn't sad. I wasn't mad. I wasn't anything
negative. It wasn't him on the news, and sure I was a little
disappointed, but that was just because of the excitement let down...but
I was okay with it! I felt the need to append my original post to tell
the story because it helps me remember that I am a STRONG person, and I
will make it, regardless of how much someone who doesn't matter spends
so much time trying to tear me down. I just really don't care what
happens to him anymore. I have more important things in my life to focus on!<br />
Ok...kinda pointless...this was more for me than
anything...so I'll stop now. My future post will be more interesting, I
hope. Go forth and do great things.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4566440806375451411.post-83404743223861232742012-08-21T14:53:00.001-06:002012-08-21T14:53:05.139-06:00I guess, Welcome Back to me(Originally Published 02/22/211) <br />
<br />
Wow!! It has been a LONG time since I posted anything to my blog.
Anyone who kept up with the last version saw that I mainly used it as an
outlet for my frustrations, and it became rather dark. This will also
be a set of my outlets for my frustrations, but I have changed alot
since my last post (no you can't find them...I deleted them all as a
fresh start), and not everything will be DARK! <br />
<br />
There are going to be several changes in the route that I take
with my blog. As I planned originally, I will be posting my musing on a
vast variety of things. I have what I consider to be a unique take on
things, and often times, people have wondered as to how many people live
in my head. To be honest, there are several...and we all get along
nicely! :) I will also be posting my frustrations and outlooks on my
life, and keeping everyone up to date on the gist of things going on. I
think I will keep up the humor stuff, and hopefully this will take
shape. Finally, I have been writing dark poetry for quiet some time, so
I decided I will start posting some of it on here. And, yes, when I
say dark, I mean dark at time. I just can't write mushy poetry...but I
ain't emo, so don't read into it. <br />
<br />
And of course, all of your comments
and feedback are most welcome!<br />
<br />
Oh, and one final note, I generally don't
like to post the real names of my friends and family on my post. So I
use "nicknames" throughout. If you get lost, just look at "The Cast"
page (link is in the header of all my post).<br />
<br />
Anyway, I wanted to give an update (or fresh start for those just joining me) on how things are these days.<br />
I
am still in San Antonio, though I will be moving do Denver, Colorado
sometime in June. It will be quiet an adventure, I suppose. To be
honest, I don't want to go, but through circumstances beyond my control,
I am going so that I can stay close to my baby girl, Amy. I have
already started looking for jobs, and I will be taking a trip to Denver
next month for interviews. I am still single, though many thought that I
was in a relationship, and I suppose I was but it wasn't the one people
thought it was and it was a very detrimental one to me. Nonetheless, I
have ended that relationship/friendship as of last October, and though I
am still dealing with some of the fallout, I am happy to have moved
on. I am still working in higher education, and have put secondary
education on the back burner. I have spend much time repairing
relationships and friendships lost due to that aforementioned
friendship, and have made new friends. (Again, for those of you just
joining the drama of my life, I have no family close by, so I put alot
into my friends, and I am very picky about who I call friend). And
that's about it! You will catch up as you follow.<br />
Either way, welcome (back) to Dwayne's World...I hope you will keep checking in!<br />
Go forth and do great thingsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08701383824019311160noreply@blogger.com0