Merry Happy Buffalo Holidays

Dearest of the Dear,

I hope that your Holidays are spent in accordance with your expectations.

Provided, of course, that your expectations are not shitty.

If, in fact, your expectations are shitty, I would like to commend you for managing your expectations well.  I would like to offer my most powerful wishes for these Holidays to exceed your expectations and that the spirit of the season stampede through your soul like the cloven hooves of one hundred thousand buffalo.

I hope that these Holidays mark your best ever according to the expectation to reality ratio system discussed herein.

Love,
Tyler

Cinema!! Twilight: Breaking Dawn (Part 1)

I haven't seen the film, but I've heard a few people talking about it.  This is what I imagine the story to be like.  

Humorless, Brooding, Emo, Vampire Douche and Slutty, Vampire Chaser Dingbat get together like everyone always wanted.  She wants to have some kind of bizarre inter-species romp before she becomes a cold soulless creature of the night.  He's all like, "No, we can't because I will basically beat the shit out of you with my hands and vampire dong."  She's all like, "But that's how I like it."  He's like, "Ok, but it's going to be bad." And she says... "Ooooh, yeah... I love it bad."  He's like, "No, I don't mean bad-good... I mean bad-bad."  And she says, "Yeah... bad-bad... that's what I like, have you read these books?"

Rusty Release.

Let me stumble through this first post-release entry please.  I'm not attacking this empty field with the same confidence I had 5 months ago.  I don't have all of my weapons at my disposal.  The thesaurus of my mind has rusted shut... I have some conditioning to undo before I can manhandle this flashing cursor (that seems to be begging for it) the way I like to.


My brain is mushy.

Mush Brain.


So, I'm out.  Out of jail, and it's a little strange, this free reality spools out like an end-of-sleep dream, because for a period of time that's all it was.  I couldn't allow myself to remember my life outside of that jail because it seemed so unreachable.  I have a little Shawshank thing happening, it's not bad enough to hang myself from the rafters, but there is some adjusting that needs to happen before I'm comfortable again.

Oh, so... you don't like jail?

You say:

I can't wait to get out of here.

I can't sleep with the lights on.

The C.O.s don't care about me.

How am I suppose to eat this food?

They won't give me my meds.

I was supposed to be out on work search last week.

Everyone is always talking about me.  People can't mind their own business.

I need to get out of here.

The bed is hard.

The pillow isn't even a real pillow.

The water is hard.

I can't see out the windows.

There's no shampoo.

Why won't anyone listen to me?

I think:

Shut your mouth.  Whomever pities you in real life isn't here right now... thank God.  We're in jail.  If at some point after 90 min of talking you realize the only one still listening or returning the idiotic volleys that tumble out of your mouth is the homeless guy... nobody gives a shit about your troubles.  I was here when you got here and I'll be here when you leave... believe me, both of us are excited for that day to come.

Complaining about being in jail to other people in jail is so brain scramblingly annoying I can't even be upset about it.  All I can say in response is, "yeah, jail sucks."

And, it does... but the company is BY FAR the worst part.