“…I Like Having a Detachable Penis”
OK, so it is 4:38 in the morning, and I am completely burnt. It was pretty busy in the beginning and things have trickled to nothing. Something I like, I prefer, I pray for… Boredom and no work.
In my previous life I had to pace myself, and make sure I left work on time to take my son to whatever sports practice he may be involved with, or not to be late to dinner during off seasons. I was energetic, and full of life, completely animated. I made a difference and I commanded a large shop. There was meaning and purpose.
Today, I am like WTF? I am a cog in a giant machine that will operate with or without me. I can be replaced anytime, and what I do really makes no difference. On top of that I let myself be duped into doing this bullshit job (not even a career). I cannot seem to balance the bullshit. I mean who do I take care of, myself or the team. If I fuck the team, then in the long run, I get fucked. If I bend deep and take it for the team, I still get fucked. So the question becomes which fucking do I prefer? In this case, I took it for the team for a pay off down the road. Been doing this for almost six months…. NO PAY-OFF!
Now, before my non-existent readers pass judgment like, WTF are you doing about your miserable pathetic existence instead of bitching about it? I am doing quite a bit. I just prefer not to write about it, something sort of superstitious about tallying up what interviews you have had and how many calls etc… especially when you just get shot down, time after time. I have gotten so close so many times, that I could hear that phone ring and the offer being made. Yet sadly, nada each time. I swear I had palpitations for an entire two days waiting on edge just knowing these guys were going to call, make me an offer and ask me when I could start, and I could just see myself walking into my managers office, telling him, to eff off, I am outta here. But no such luck. I have even started not to tell people I know and trust about these calls and interviews. When the big one comes, then I will make a big deal about it.
I also do not think I want to talk about it because I try to be a humble kind of guy. I am not a person who “dick measures.” Oh, not heard that term? I can’t recall where I picked it up but it is very true, us guys like to measure our dicks! So I have this buddy of mine. He is one (I know probably 5 incredibly intelligent people) of the smartest people I have ever met. This is probably his downfall. The guy cannot be satisfied. I mean for Christ sake, Mimi and I think at one time he was looking to fuck her, not even satisfied with is own wife. Hahaha! Okay, so I still recall the first time I meat L, and we started talking about what we did, he would try to one up me and many times succeeded in one-upping me. No matter what I said, he countered. That is just how L is. He is financially successful, has no college education and was prior military. In the past year where I have been unemployed and stuck at this hell hole I use to bring home a paycheck, he has literally had seven different jobs, and still is looking regardless where he lands, AND he makes a point at telling me about all his fortunes every chance he gets. That, my friends, is Dick Measuring. He has to pull his pud out and put it up against mine, just to make sure his is still bigger and fatter than mine.
I do not begrudge a friend his fortunes, as a matter of fact, I generally enjoy hearing about the fortunes of my friends and family. But there is a point that humility must speak to one and they should just shut the fuck up and stop measuring their dick with yours! Sadly this is not lost on their son B. I shit you not, only a few days ago I was having dinner with my family and my son starts going on about B and how he always give my son hell for not being able to play basketball well (on the contrary, it has turned out that my son is a pretty decent player after his first season playing ball), and when B is not making fun of of my son’s lack of playing playing prowess, B is bragging about his prowess on the court (unfortunately, even B’s Mom has admitted B really is not that good). And so my son goes on and makes me understand that it is not just basketball B rags on him about, but pretty much everything these days, especially when the little hottie these guys gravitate around is present. B has been interested in girls for a while, being about a year older than my son. My son is just starting to get the girl fever and does not understand the peacock dance that we males do around girls. Well as I learned from my son, my L’s son has started measuring dicks too, at the tender age of 12.
I grant you, that I bitch a lot, but that is one of the reasons I went ahead and started this blog. My wife needed a serious mental break form me bitching at her. I have become a virtual hermit since my professional life has scheduled itself opposite of all my buddies. I have no one I can relate this to, therefore Mimi gets the brunt of my woe and frustration. Something I am convinced leads to her end of the week blues. So tonight I am typing this all out whilst sick with my bi-weekly cold, hoping I can beat it down and possibly help give my wife a great Mother’s Day.
One more things about Mimi, she is really hot. I hope you read her latest post, cause even in my weekend sickly state, it made me horny. I sort of knew she did this already from prior conversations, but reading about it is pretty erotic.
As I finish this post and decide what the title will be so as not to give away the whole Dick Measuring thing, I heard a song that is apropos to this post and obscure, part of that whole 80’s/90’s transitional period of music. I was an alternative music junkie in the 80s so its pretty cool when you hear something after 20 years or so (BTW, if you check out my links and go to Day Glo Radio, they have some great obscure 80s music)The song is by King Missile and the name of it is Detachable Penis (use Limewire and look it up). Basically about a guy who lost his penis partying one night. Wonder if L would like to have one of those to better measure himself up against others. Wow, that was mean!
In my previous life I had to pace myself, and make sure I left work on time to take my son to whatever sports practice he may be involved with, or not to be late to dinner during off seasons. I was energetic, and full of life, completely animated. I made a difference and I commanded a large shop. There was meaning and purpose.
Today, I am like WTF? I am a cog in a giant machine that will operate with or without me. I can be replaced anytime, and what I do really makes no difference. On top of that I let myself be duped into doing this bullshit job (not even a career). I cannot seem to balance the bullshit. I mean who do I take care of, myself or the team. If I fuck the team, then in the long run, I get fucked. If I bend deep and take it for the team, I still get fucked. So the question becomes which fucking do I prefer? In this case, I took it for the team for a pay off down the road. Been doing this for almost six months…. NO PAY-OFF!
Now, before my non-existent readers pass judgment like, WTF are you doing about your miserable pathetic existence instead of bitching about it? I am doing quite a bit. I just prefer not to write about it, something sort of superstitious about tallying up what interviews you have had and how many calls etc… especially when you just get shot down, time after time. I have gotten so close so many times, that I could hear that phone ring and the offer being made. Yet sadly, nada each time. I swear I had palpitations for an entire two days waiting on edge just knowing these guys were going to call, make me an offer and ask me when I could start, and I could just see myself walking into my managers office, telling him, to eff off, I am outta here. But no such luck. I have even started not to tell people I know and trust about these calls and interviews. When the big one comes, then I will make a big deal about it.
I also do not think I want to talk about it because I try to be a humble kind of guy. I am not a person who “dick measures.” Oh, not heard that term? I can’t recall where I picked it up but it is very true, us guys like to measure our dicks! So I have this buddy of mine. He is one (I know probably 5 incredibly intelligent people) of the smartest people I have ever met. This is probably his downfall. The guy cannot be satisfied. I mean for Christ sake, Mimi and I think at one time he was looking to fuck her, not even satisfied with is own wife. Hahaha! Okay, so I still recall the first time I meat L, and we started talking about what we did, he would try to one up me and many times succeeded in one-upping me. No matter what I said, he countered. That is just how L is. He is financially successful, has no college education and was prior military. In the past year where I have been unemployed and stuck at this hell hole I use to bring home a paycheck, he has literally had seven different jobs, and still is looking regardless where he lands, AND he makes a point at telling me about all his fortunes every chance he gets. That, my friends, is Dick Measuring. He has to pull his pud out and put it up against mine, just to make sure his is still bigger and fatter than mine.
I do not begrudge a friend his fortunes, as a matter of fact, I generally enjoy hearing about the fortunes of my friends and family. But there is a point that humility must speak to one and they should just shut the fuck up and stop measuring their dick with yours! Sadly this is not lost on their son B. I shit you not, only a few days ago I was having dinner with my family and my son starts going on about B and how he always give my son hell for not being able to play basketball well (on the contrary, it has turned out that my son is a pretty decent player after his first season playing ball), and when B is not making fun of of my son’s lack of playing playing prowess, B is bragging about his prowess on the court (unfortunately, even B’s Mom has admitted B really is not that good). And so my son goes on and makes me understand that it is not just basketball B rags on him about, but pretty much everything these days, especially when the little hottie these guys gravitate around is present. B has been interested in girls for a while, being about a year older than my son. My son is just starting to get the girl fever and does not understand the peacock dance that we males do around girls. Well as I learned from my son, my L’s son has started measuring dicks too, at the tender age of 12.
I grant you, that I bitch a lot, but that is one of the reasons I went ahead and started this blog. My wife needed a serious mental break form me bitching at her. I have become a virtual hermit since my professional life has scheduled itself opposite of all my buddies. I have no one I can relate this to, therefore Mimi gets the brunt of my woe and frustration. Something I am convinced leads to her end of the week blues. So tonight I am typing this all out whilst sick with my bi-weekly cold, hoping I can beat it down and possibly help give my wife a great Mother’s Day.
One more things about Mimi, she is really hot. I hope you read her latest post, cause even in my weekend sickly state, it made me horny. I sort of knew she did this already from prior conversations, but reading about it is pretty erotic.
As I finish this post and decide what the title will be so as not to give away the whole Dick Measuring thing, I heard a song that is apropos to this post and obscure, part of that whole 80’s/90’s transitional period of music. I was an alternative music junkie in the 80s so its pretty cool when you hear something after 20 years or so (BTW, if you check out my links and go to Day Glo Radio, they have some great obscure 80s music)The song is by King Missile and the name of it is Detachable Penis (use Limewire and look it up). Basically about a guy who lost his penis partying one night. Wonder if L would like to have one of those to better measure himself up against others. Wow, that was mean!
posted by Just Call Me Jay at 8:49 AM
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