Archive for April, 2011

I like to think of myself as a good friend.  I generally respond to text messages in a prompt manner and I try to make the effort to stay in touch with the friends I care about the most, etc etc, all those basic ‘friend things’.  But sometimes, more often than not, I’ve found that it is not about you (and if you’re keeping tabs that you is me, make sense?)

Being a good friend is about being there.  It’s about sharing a moment.  So let me tell you a story…

On Tuesday I got a text from a friend.  It simply said, “come get a beer with me…” I replied back, “will do.”  The next message said, “Pub here now.”  Being the whitty, humorous, and clever guy that I am, I replied back, “I don’t have a tardis.  I’ll be there momentarily.”  (a Doctor Who reference some of you will get it)  I get to the pub and find my friend.  I will not disclose his situation.  Let’s just say he had a rough day and needed company.  What he needed was someone to be there (already you should be getting how important it is to be there.)  When someone, particularly a close friend of mine, is having a serious issue or problem I struggle with knowing what to say – who doesn’t?  I knew that if I kept talking, saying things that were relevant that maybe, just maybe, he would find something useful.  I will admit that if the circumstances are just right I tend to be a cryer.  Certain songs that remind me of my family are always hard to get through without tearing up, for example. “Murder in the City” by The Avett Brothers, “Indian Moon” by State Radio, and “Sister” by Dave Matthews Band (to name a few), a SportsCenter piece about touching story will get the waterworks going.  But other situations can lead me to start crying…Like telling a story as to why you will always trust a close friend of yours for the first time…  To give you all a bit of clarification part of what my friend was dealing with was the question, “can I still lead others, can I still give people advice that is worth something?” (out of respect I won’t say the other things we discussed).  The answer I gave to those questions was a simple story about how I’ve trusted him since the first time I ever met him, how no matter what happened I knew that he would be there watching my back, making sure I was okay.  And the reason for that trust was the amount of trust my mom has in him.  My mom always wanted to know where I was, what I was doing, who I was with (those sorts of questions never bothered me, btw), when I would tell her that I was gonna be with my friend she knew I would be safe, she knew that there was someone to look after her son.  My mom has only met my friend a couple of times but she knew what kind of a person my friend was.  While telling this story I began to cry, picture it: me in a bar, crying while having a deep realization of what it means to have some there.  It was at that moment, after I told my story, that I knew what kind of person my friend was.  He is the kind of person who will be made stronger by the events that have taken place in his life.  He is the kind of person who will always be there for his friends with the best advice.  Advice that is honest and to the point (unlike this lengthy post).

I learned something about people on Tuesday, April 26, 2011… I learned that when someone asks you to be there for them, there should be no hesitation on your part, NONE.  I learned that sharing these kinds of moments are the ones that you will store in your brain and NEVER forget.  When these moments do happen it is important that we take the time to recognize and reflect how special they will end up being.  These moments have a unique way of changing the parties involved forever.

until next time,



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Harry Potter’s life serves one purpose…to show how a cock blocker, if not properly checked by society can get away with it. And become a celebrated figure by millions kept in the dark. Well, I’m here world, with a flashlight ready to shine the light.

So he-who-shall-not-be-named was simply trying to get some Lilly Potter pussy one night in Gordric’s Hallow. Perfectly understandable. She’s a bomb ass looking milf who’s ass needs tapping. So voldermort is more than willing to oblige. At this moment in time he is not the dark lord of all wizardry. He is simply a man tryin’ to get laid – granted of course he chose a married woman to try and sleep with. But voldermort is a cunning wizard. He convinces Lily to lay with him HOWEVER this is the precise moment when the books begin but I’m illuminating the true reason for the novels. Baby Harry starts to cry – just as voldermort let’s the needle meet the vinyl of a Marvin Gaye record. Enraged by this act voldermort lashes out, he does not think of his actions. He casts a spell to pronounce to the world who Harry Potter truly is…a cock blocker. Lilly is stricken with grief, she attempts to save her son for his cockblocking ways yet cannot. She gave her life to prevent her son growing up as a cockblocker, yet failed. Voldermort is not able to bring down this monster..he was only able to cast a spell to leave a mark on the young boy to show that he is a cockblocker for the rest of his life.

For the rest of his life Harry shows us plenty of examples of his brilliant cockblocking abilities. Watch the movies if you think I’m joking…

And how did Harry become a cockblocker? Simple: he inherited it from his father James. Who picked and teased Snape to the point where he was incapable of saying a word to Lilly. Sound like cockblocking to you? I think so.

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Babies frighten me..I look at one and wonder what sort of alien created it.  I wonder how such a tiny thing can influence so many people to come up with such wonderful things to say, all the god damn time.  Enough is enough.  Let’s be truly honest.  The sight of a baby that is not your own should scare the shit right out of you.  And in the rare case the baby may still be your and your shit will still be in your pants. *see Maury not Josh.

To be honest I think women use babies as a dick measuring game….yeah I said it… Especially when their baby starts to do cool stuff…you know like pick its nose, shit on it own, wash its hand after shitting (this act comes much later by the way)  Women always want their ball of breathing joy to be ahead of your tiny ball of shitty joy (another mother’s words not mine)…

Anyways can’t you moms see the value in the astonishing fact that you can produce life?  Shouldn’t that floor you every day you life?  Life comes from you.  The human race depends on you for its continued existence… yet, YET, all you care about is taking stupid pictures and uploading them to facebook.  Honestly get a hold of yourself mothers and see the big picture.

wow that felt wonderful to type

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Yeah, what Marcus Mumford said. It’s such a simple thing but how often to we think of our love as an investment? If we did it more I’m sure we’d be less likely to be hurt over and over because when you make an investment you want to know as much as you can before making that decision. However, I still think that as an investor of you love you have to be willing to take a risk. After all, risk-taking is often rewarded in the market, but also as a risk-taker comes the knowledge that you get hurt if things don’t work out. And even this simple fact would help us all if we saw love as an investment. So be wise with your investment of love. Family and friends will always yield positive returns, but don’t be afraid to find someone who may or may not be worth the risk. Once we understand the risks, and the rewards, our decision making would be better for it.

Carpe cotidie (seize every day)

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So here’s the deal

I bitch and complain that no one reads this blog, well people do and to those of you that do I VOW to not complain about the fact that no one reads this.  You dedicated readers deserve the unadulterated thoughts inside of my mind and not my bitchy complaints about how no one ever reads my blog.  It’s the internet and if properly tagged more people would read this blog, but I purposely don’t add them.

Three posts in one day? Holy hell! I must be doing something right? or wrong? whichever is the case..


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Something you all should do

Admit that you’re an asshole.  Say it, out loud or in your mind.  The sooner the better.  Because if you don’t it will be hard to understand the meaning of lots of things.  You are not a perfect person.  Everyone is, or at one point, in their lives will be an asshole.  So the best thing to do is admit.  And move on.  With the understanding of the fact that you’re an asshole comes clarity.  If you know that your actions will not always please others it’s because you’re an asshole.  I think the word asshole has a bad association, gee Josh I wonder why?…But once you have acknowledged that the universe has made everyone around you an asshole life will get a lot easier.

But what do I know? I’m just an asshole…with a blog

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I think God is a cool dude HOWEVER he lets some pretty shitty stuff happen (cancer, senseless murders/deaths, etc.)

in addition…

I think religion cripples the minds of those it sucks in. You can live a good life without it. Be a good person – regardless of religious leanings.

I think more people should be open to literary analysis, getting to know the mind of a writer is a fantastic thing.

I think you should listen to at least one song you haven’t heard every day.

I think a hug from your mother is aces. Or your second mother.

I think it’s natural to miss your best friends.

I think I can’t wait until summer.

I think this new Foo Fighters record will blow my mind every time I listen to it.

I think email might be my favorite form of communication in this Internet age

I think I can learn so much from my kids at after school. They show me how to be a better person.

I think it’s important to be there when those same after school kids don’t make a save or punch in the penalty kick to say, “keep your head up, always”

I think lunch with old friends should happen more often.

I think tomorrow is a new day. Another chance to do something memorable. So what are we waiting for?

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