A Vicious Cycle of Shit

I hate my job.

Well no, I don’t. I actually don’t mind my job. For what it’s worth it’s actually a pretty nice and cushy place to work. I have excellent benefits, I have the ability to work from the comfort of my home, they pay for me to attend college and it’s not too far from where I live.

That being said, I don’t make enough money to live reasonably. Note I did not say comfortably, I said reasonably. Here’s what I mean. As a fully functioning adult, I don’t get paid enough to afford a place on my own. Like how fucking pathetic is that. Between paying rent, which I split between a number of people, groceries, various utility bills, and the need for some form of entertainment from time to time, I barely have enough money to make it to my next pay check yet alone put aside anything in to my savings account for a rainy day. I have a POS car that I would love to get rid of and procure a new one but in order for me to do that I would have to sacrifice rents or some of my other bills. I would like to purchase a house and some point but that would require having very little debt, forgoing trying to purchase a new or lightly used car and being able to put aside a considerable amount in to my savings/checking account. As some of you may know or have read my father passed away recently, which incurred some very sudden expense that resulted in the depletion of most of my savings and high balances of my credit cards at which currently I’ve been putting every little bit of money I have in to bringing those balances under control. All of these issues I think could be alleviated if I were being paid more money.

Without going in to too much detail, my current company doesn’t follow a sensible pay scale which results in unqualified and those in some higher positions to be paid salaries that are an ocean’s gap away from us regular employees. As a result most of us get paid just enough to be broke, while the other half get paid way more than they are worth or deserve. On second though, I’ll stick with my original statement….

I hate my job.

@thekrayze1

 

 

Changes

A few posts back I briefly mentioned that I’ve had some deaths in my family and as such it has made 2016 a very difficult year.

On May 1st 2016, I received the news that my father had passed away. This was not a shock. He had been suffering with Alzheimer’s for  a few years and I knew that it would only been a matter of time. I thought I was prepared for it but as it turns out you can never be prepared enough. After receiving the news and hanging up from my aunt I sat in my office for a moment telling myself that I know this moment would come and it finally did, but that didn’t stop the tears from flowing the way I expected it would. For some reason I did not think I would cry. Boy was I wrong. Before this moment I had never lost anyone really close to me and since then I’ve looked at death and the people who are a part of my life very differently. It opened my eyes to the fact that the people around including myself are getting older and at some point these people are going to pass from this world on to the next and there is nothing that I can do about it. That thought really shook me to the core. You would think that as a logical human being one would know that if you live, eventually you will die, and although we all know this basic truth when it happens it still comes as a shock to us.

Exactly one month from my family laying my father to rest, a woman who I lovingly refer to as my aunt even though she is of no blood relation passed away suddenly from cancer. This upset me more than anything cause unlike my father’s Alzheimer’s, this was sudden and we just didn’t have enough time with her before she succumbed to the disease. So within as many months my family had lost two people very close to us.

Needless to say I have become a different person since then. I’ve dropped in to bouts of depression and often have little patience for people. I go through period that fluctuate between happiness and apathy and have even had brief fleeting thoughts of suicide. While I HIGHLY doubt I will ever do harm to myself, I have come to the realization that my relationships with certain people have changed and I am slowly pushing people away from me. They say that our experiences in life change us. Some for better, some for worse. Not sure what direction I am headed in that regard, but I’m about to find out.

@thekrayze1 

D.S.I.D.A.A.K: The Fire

I’ve done quite a few things in my life that I’m not proud of. I’ve done even MORE things in my life that makes me wonder how the hell I ever made it past the age of 15?

Case in point.

I love fire. Anyone that knows me, knows that I love watching things burn. “Some men just want to watch the world burn” – Alfred Pennyworth. I’m one of those men. Maybe “the world” is a drastic exaggeration, but I am a pyromaniac, but a good one if there is such a thing. I guess you can call me a pleasant pyromaniac. I’m not the “raving, set everything and everyone on fire and watch them burn and scream in agony” type of pyromaniac, just the “wow that is a pretty lovely blaze and it feels so warm and comforting” type of pyromaniac. There’s more of an artistic appreciation in my love of the hot stuff. The elegant dancing of flames as they consume and devour everything in their path while giving off such radiant warmth has always been a pleasurable experience (I mean…as long as no one was in danger or anything am I right? That guy knows what I’m talking about). Some years ago, I watched as my neighbor’s house across the way burn to the ground (with them not in it of course) and remembered thinking, “THIS. IS. AWESOME“! HEY!….No judging.

Anyway, I digress. I wanted to tell you guys a story. None sure when it started, but my first experience with setting things ablaze started when I was around 8 years old. Hurricane Hugo had recently blown through my island and left it completely devastated. People lost their homes and everyone was without power. By some good fortune however, and possibly excellent structural engineering, my house was one of the few left unaffected by the storm. A few months after the hurricane, after things had settled a bit and school was back in session, a friend of mine came over and we were doing homework in my bedroom. To this day I don’t know where she got the cigarette light from, but out of no where she had one in her hand and with a broad smile on her face said, “Look at what I have?!”

It all went downhill from there. Quickly grabbing the lighter from her, my first instinct was to burn something, but seeing as the smell of smoke would be the fast track to an ass-whoopin, I was force to find an alternate way to place the lighter to good use. Fancying my self a brave explorer, I decided to adventure under my bed to see what I could find using the lighter as my torch. So with “torch” in hand myself and my brave companion braved the underneath of my bed cave in search of whatever treasures it might hold. However, that got boring quickly, well at least to her anyway. After a few minutes she gave up and went back to homework, prompting me to do the same, and in hindsight I should have listened, but I was still having fun. Braving one last trek under the bed I decided to get back to homework.

Not sure if you guys are familiar with what bed were made of back in 1989, but they were primarily composed of a box spring on the bottom and a mattress to rest on top of it. Back on the day these “box springs” had a papery cloth-like material lining the bottom to hide the wood frame that the box was made of. What I know now, but didn’t have a clue about back then, was that is HIGHLY flammable.

At this point in time I’d returned to my homework completely oblivious to the small fire I’d started under my bed. My friend Jennie however, wasn’t.

“The bed is on fire.”

She’d said it so softly at first I thought she was kidding, but the second time she said it there was a sense that something was terribly wrong. While I couldn’t see the fire yet, there was a small plume of smoke coming from underneath the bed. On further examination, what clearly happened while I was pretending to be Indiana Jones, was that I inadvertently set the material under the box-spring on fire and it was spreading rapidly.

Now, if you remember correctly, I’M 8! And the first thing an 8-year-old does is panic, while simultaneously trying to figure out a way to put the fire out WITHOUT involving an adult and any guaranteed repercussions that would come with that decision. So in my panic and small little idiot 8 year old brain, I put together a plan of action.

Need water to put out the fire. <— Good Idea!
Will cup the water in my hand and carry it from the bathroom to my room and throw it up under the bed. <—You stupid fucking idiot!

So after 3 or 4 trips back and forth with no progress to show for it, my friend decided to get a grown up involved, which was clearly the first things that should have been done.

Needless to say, severe ass-whoopin’s were promptly handed out once the fire was put out and I was out of a bed. Her for having the lighter, and me for almost burning the house down.

Man, I did some dumb shit as a kid.

@thekrayze1

 

Hello Again

Well hello there! It’s been a bloody long time hasn’t it? Well sorry, I’m not sorry. The way my mind works I need to be totally committed and invested in something for it to have my undivided attention and at present, writing and keeping up with this blog isn’t a priority.

You know what, let’s back up a bit, that last paragraph sounded a bit harsh and almost like give zero fucks about writing and this blog. I care about this blog and I do want to create steady and continuous content, but to be quite honest I haven’t had the drive and so many other things are occupying my time and resources that I just do not have the energy to keep up with the attention that this need. So to all my loyal readers (all two or three of you), I sincerely apologize.

To give you a brief look in to my world, I’m currently taking classes full-time with hopes of graduating next Spring, and while the drive is still there I might as well “strike while the iron is hot”. I’ve become more invested in my photography and am in the process of attempting at building a business from it, so that takes up a bit of my time when I’m not balls deep in my studies. I’ve had some deaths in the family and that has taken a physical and emotional toll on me but I’ll leave that talk for another time. There are a million other things that are dividing my attention right now and adds to a continuous stream of anxiety and stress but no need to bog anyone of you down with any of that right now.

Hope you’re all doing wonderfully!

@thekrayze1

See, the Problem is…

I’m not a very emotional person. Or rather, I’d like to believe that I’m not a very emotional person. I keep a very stoic attitude towards everything and try my best not to let my actions reflect how I may actually be feeling at the moment.

Actually, that’s not true. I’m a very emotional person. Too emotional sometimes I think. My problem comes with the fact that I internalize a great deal of things, anger, happiness, fear, sadness, disappointment, sympathy, mostly because I don’t know how to express my emotions very well. I never know how to react to things or if the way that I am reacting is correct. I prefer to keep up the facade that I’m emotionless and that people’s thoughts and actions don’t affect me and that I can’t be hurt by the things people say or do but it never works. No matter how much I’d like to pretend like I don’t care it always seems like my feelings are so easily trampled. Every other day it seems like I’m nursing some emotional wound that somehow slipped through a chink in my emotional armor.

Internalization (is that even a word?) doesn’t seem to be working for me to well these days. It accounts for much of my stress and personal conflicts. I care about people’s feelings way to much to tell them how I feel or what I may be thinking. I’m so afraid to hurt people so I’d rather deal with the turmoil within myself than to risk causing pain to someone else.

I sometimes wish that I could turn my feeling and my ability to care for people off but no matter how hard I try it seems like I don’t know how to not care too much. I develop bonds with individuals and then the inevitable event of some sort occurs that has me desperately trying to salvage whats been left of my tattered feelings. I wish I knew how not to care. I wish I knew a sure-fire way to avoid being taken advantage of. I wish I knew how to walk away without looking back. I wish I knew how to not give people the benefit of the doubt. I wish I knew how to not see the potential good in people.I wish I knew how to not expect people to meet me half way. I wish I knew how to not be considerate of people’s feelings. I wish it wasn’t so easy for me to bond with people.

I wish…..

@TheKrayze1

D-D-D-D-D-Did That Just Happen?

I’m not sure how to write this without sounding insensitive or mocking. I assure you I’m not intentionally doing either. OH! I know! I’ll make this an informative learning post that way I can talk about this and not sound like a total dick (I’ll have to use scientific terms and shit to make this sound official).

Earlier this week, I received a phone call from a student that needed to check the status of her account. Following the normal procedures of verifying her identity, I was required to ask her a specific set of questions, specifically her to provide her student I.D., date of birth and name. While providing her identification number and date of birth, there were breaks in the information that at first I thought was a result of us having a bad connection. However when it came time for her to provide her name, it all became crystal clear.

ME: “Thank you so much for that information ma’am. And who do I have the pleasure of speaking with today?”

STUDENT: “My name is M-M-M-M-M-M-Mary S-S-S-S-S-S-Smith.”

I almost lost it.

It took everything in my power not to blurt out and shout, “I-I-I-I-I-IT DOESN”T MATTER!” (For those of you lost on the reference, please watch the video below)

Please understand, while the moment was somewhat amusing (ok it was fucking hilarious), this was the first time I’d actually ever spoken to anyone that stuttered. I mean I’ve heard people stammer in movies, but it’s a movie and my brain only registers the fact that it’s for the movie. This was the real deal, and it was epic!  So epic in fact that it actually made me go out and do research on the disorder.

Stuttering; alalia syllabaris), also known as stammering; alalia literalis or anarthria literalis), (See! Scientific and shit!) is a speech disorder in which the flow of speech is disrupted by involuntary repetitions and prolongations of sounds, syllables, words or phrases (No shit?) as well as involuntary silent pauses or blocks in which the person who stutters is unable to produce sounds. The term stuttering is most commonly associated with involuntary sound repetition, but it also encompasses the abnormal hesitation or pausing before speech, referred to by people who stutter as blocks, and the prolongation of certain sounds, usually vowels and semivowels.

The disorder is also variable, which means that in certain situations, such as talking on the telephone (ding, ding), the stuttering might be more severe or less, depending on the anxiety level connected with that activity (she must have gotten really anxious by the sound of my smooth velvety voice). Although the exact etiology or cause of stuttering is unknown, both genetics and neurophysiology are thought to contribute.

Now all I need to do is meet someone with Tourettes. Hey, don’t judge me.

@TheKrayze1

 

I Just Don’t Know…

I have a daily routine. Come in to work, loathe my job, and go home. During my daily routine I tend to use my breaks and lunch for personal reflection and maybe jot down notes or write articles for my blog…much like I’m doing right now. Usually I have my earphones in and my music turned up to momentarily tune out the outside world so that I can focus on whatever it is that has my attention for the moment. Some people get the hint but most don’t and will STILL try to have a conversation with me even though I can’t hear a fucking thing they’re saying (I mean what is it with people these days that just don’t get the hint?).

There are times however that I’m in such a hurry to get my ideas to paper (Or to Microsoft Word in this instance) that I forget to throw up the “Do Not Disturb” sign by putting my earphones in and inadvertently welcome in all the crazy.

This morning I was sitting in the break room alone with my laptop open adding a few songs to my iPhone when in walks one of my female coworkers.  I pause for a brief moment readying myself for a possible random conversation that I’ll have no interest in of which I’ll have to fake my way through, but it doesn’t happen. Instead she walks to the nearby soda machine and proceeds to enter decision-making mode trying to decide on what carbonated and ridiculously overpriced beverages she might purchase(seriously, you should see the prices they charge for these drinks). After a few seconds of being on edge it doesn’t seem like I’ll be bothered so I go back to my perusal of iTunes.

I dropped my guard too soon.

Coworker: “I wish I had someone that I could have wild and crazy sex with on a regular.”

Me: “I’m sorry, what?”

Coworker: “(giggling) You know I wish I had someone that I could have wild and crazy sex with on a regular. I mean I have someone like that but…I want someone who whenever I call them they’d come over and spend the night and we could just get it in. I was talking to (another coworker) and the said that Aquarius people like to have sex and it’s true. If it were possible I would be having sex every single night.”

Me: “(nervous laugh) Um… good luck with that?”

I mean WHAT THE FUCK? How? What? Why? Why would you think it’s even remotely ok to say something like that so someone? How were you expecting that conversation to unravel? Then I thought about it for a minute. Was that her way of making a pass at me? Was that her indirectly direct way of saying that she wanted my dick? I mean, not like there was a snowball chance in hell of that even happening. I’m in no way even remotely attracted to this broad. Nope. No sir. If I was, it would have been a different story. Under different circumstances I would have gladly given her a business card for Rescue Dick Enterprises and given her a…..wait, I’m getting off topic here. Um…what was I saying, oh right, beaten with an ugly stick. And when I say beaten with the ugly stick I’m not really referring to her face. There are other attributes that contribute to her overall unattractiveness. If it’s not bad enough that she’s not the prettiest person in the world but her personality is very ugly as well. She’s always talking about someone behind their back while smiling in their face and she can’t keep anything a secret. If you want something to spread around the office don’t send an email, just tell….whoa, I almost dropped her name. This woman has very loose lips, and not in a good way either. Actually, having loose lips is never good in anyway…..I’m getting off topic again.

Anyway, HOW RANDOM WAS THAT SHIT?! This job, I swear.

@TheKrayze1

Cluttered My Mind Is…

Warning: This post is very random. Then again when aren’t they? Trying to think up something to write about on a daily basis or the means to effectivly convey it to paper can be a task for me sometimes. The result is dozens of unfinished articles sitting on my blog site that started out brilliantly but fizzled a few paragraphs in. The usual reason for this is if it’s not a post that I’m in tuned with, then my ideas succumb to the traffic of thoughts that go through my head at any given instant. (O.O) <—- (That’s supposed to be my “light bulb” face). I just had a brilliant idea! Why don’t I write a post comprised entirely of the random shit that’s going through my head? Sounds great right? No? Fuck you, because I’m doing it anyway.

So here’s what I’m going to do. I’m at work right now and on my lunch break. This is the perfect time to try this experiment. I’m going to set my phone on a 1 minute timer. In that one minutes I’m going to type whatever random thought pops in to my head during that time, no filter.  And feel free to try this yourself if you like.

Alright, there is one minutes on the clock:

Ok, maybe this wasn’t a good idea because all of a sudden it seems like my brain has flat-lined. Fuck, all these thoughts that are usually going through my head and now I’m drawing a blank. Man I’m broke as fuck. I just got paid this morning. Why is this chick talking about her grandfather being a gardener? Does Matt really not know what chives are? He IS on bath-salts. Man she has some beautiful skin, but she let her body go. What a shame.  I need to re-budget. Angel. I wonder if she’s up. Oh wait she’s at her other job today. Man I’m hungry. There goes that pedophile. This job is some bull-shit. I need to figure out how I’m going to get these gifts for Rowan.  So glad I filed my tax returns this morning, but fuck the IRS on this January 30^th bullshit. Those are some nice titties.  How does she have 4 kids and still have a body like that cause that ass is a-maz-ing. FOCUS LOREN! You have 20 seconds left! I can’t wait to get my car fixed. Let’s see, headlights, tail lights, muffler, catalytic converter, and whatever else is friggin wrong with it. I wonder how much that is going to cost. Is it 5:30 yet? WHY IS DAY NOT OVER?! Hey white girl! Eew! What the fuck was that? I need to adjust my nuts but there are too many people in here.  I’d do her, and her, and her and her.  Eew fuck no! What am I going to eat for dinner tonight? I can’t believe I spent all that money today. I guess you have to spend money to make money. I wonder if my packages are going to come tomorrow. I need to start working out again. I want to be sexy as fuck by summer. Her face is shaped weird.  I’m horny. Why is my dick hard? Stupid random penis. Oh shit my minute is up.

And there you have it. Don’t judge me.

Feel free to try this experiment and post the results in the comment section below or tag me in a post. I can’t wait to see if anyone thinks as randomly as I do.

@TheKrayze1

Male Bathroom Etiquette

I’m not even sure where to start with this one. At first when I was entertaining the idea of writing this it was just based off of a few pet peeves that I have while using the bathroom. As I thought about it more I realized that I’d probably be doing the general male public a favor by laying down a few guidelines for male bathroom etiquette.

And ladies before you call me out for nit-picking, let me just say it’s not the same for us guys as it is for women. You guys use the bathroom as a communal gathering of estrogen to discuss matters of the heart, take duck faced pictures for Instagram and other trivial matters(I’m going to catch hell for that I’m sure). For men the bathroom is business only. Go in, do what you do, and get out.

However, I think some men have forgotten that there are rules in place for using the mans bathroom. Well since it has slipped the minds of some of you I’m going to refresh your memory with a few tips of what you should and should not do while in the bathroom.

1. Do NOT talk to me while I’m using the urinal. Seriously, my penis is in my hand. For a man, this is one of our most vulnerable moments. We’re exposed and in no position do defend ourselves if shit goes down. We need to be on alert in case some shit happens and you trying to have a conversation about how shitty this job is or how hot Barbara from accounting is just takes away from my attention.
2. Do NOT talk to me while you are using the urinal and have your penis in your hand. I’m going to respect what you’re doing and let you concentrate on aiming so don’t sabotage yourself by trying to strike up a conversation with me.
3. If we are both using the urinals at the same time, we are NOT pee buddies. Do NOT talk to me. Your penis is in your hand and my penis is in my hand. It’s already awkward enough, so please don’t add to the weirdness.
4. Speaking of simultaneous urination, if we are using the urinals at the same time please leave a one urinal gap between yourself and the other gentleman. This is non-negotiable. If you walk in to the bathroom and the only urinals that are free are the gap urinals, then FUCKING WAIT! That is not an open invitation to squeeze yourself in between two men. No Exceptions.
5. Do NOT talk to me if I am using the bathroom stall or vice versa. Rules 1 and 2 still apply in this instance. Just because you’re behind closed doors still doesn’t mean it’s allowed. I mean chances are if I’m in using the stall it’s either A.) all that’s left is the urinal gap and I’m not going to be that guy (see no. 4) or B.) I’m taking a deuce. Which means my pants are around my ankles, another vulnerable position for a man. The gap rule applies for stalls as well but can be ignored since there is a partition separating you and I. HOWEVER, please do not let your feet slide under the partitions. You’ve been warned.

Here are also a few things to remember.
If you and another guy are at the urinals, don’t look over at him, stay facing forward.
If you get a little on the seat, wipe it off. I mean really how hard is it to get a piece of tissue and clean up after yourself.
This isn’t a fucking gym. There’s no need for all that grunting. You’re taking a shit not lifting weights. It can be done silently.
Talking is only allowed at the sinks among other men at the sinks. No cross communication should be had by any man washing his hands with another man at the urinal or in the stalls.
Wash your hands. No, seriously, wash them. If I see you leave the bathroom without washing your hands, it’s your funeral.

I HAVE SPOKEN!

@TheKrayze1

 

Pardon me Ma’am, You seem Thirsty…

Desperation? That can be a justification for all kinds of behavior. -Jessica Walter

Earlier this week I wrote a post stemming from a conversation that I’d had with a friend of mine that made for very interesting “BlogFodder”(hats off to @ladyestrogen for the term). Well thanks to my best friend of over 10 years, I’m please to share with you another of our random yet inspiring conversations.

As it goes, I was home last night doing a bit of gaming before heading to bed when I heard the familiar light-saber chime (yeah, I’m a loser)  that indicated I had received a text message from my friend Horace. Upon opening the message I saw that it was a picture of a woman, (which it often is) that I’d never met.

Now before I continue let me share some things with you that may make things a little easier to understand. A few years ago Horace met a woman who’s name I won’t reveal even though she was a total bitch, dated her for a few months and after what seemed like true love decided to marry her. A few short years after that things went south and they inevitably got divorced. Since then he’s been truly relishing the single life and taking the opportunity to meet as many women as he can through Craigslist or dating sites such as Plenty of Fish. So getting a picture of a random new woman is nothing out of the ordinary. Let’s continue.

ME: Who’s this?

Horace: Some chick I just started talking to from POF.

ME: Oh ok. She’s actually kinda cute. How long have you been talking to her?

Horace: Monday.

Keep in mind that I’m writing this post on Friday or the same week.

(Another picture comes through, this time it’s a closer picture of her in what I just now realized was her bra taken of herself in with her cell phone in the bathroom )

ME: She’s really cute. Except for that mole smack dab in the middle of her face, but yeah, thumbs up.

Horace: Yeah, that mole. LMAO. I’m going to need her to stop sending me pics though.

ME: Why?

(In comes another picture of her, no bra this time. The picture stops right above where her nipples would be and it looks like she may be in the shower.)

ME: Um…Well… I still don’t see the problem here. Obviously she wants you to destroy her.

Horace: Especially with that last pic.

ME: Again, not seeing the problem.

Horace: Me either.

ME: You’re the one that said you wanted her to stop sending you pics!

Horace: Not so many of them.

(Yet another picture comes through, this time you can clearly see her breast and she’s dripping wet and obviously in the shower)

ME: Yeah dude, she really wants to get it. Did you ask her for nudes?

Horace: Nope.

Who sends unsolicited nudes to a guy that she’s only talked to for 4 days and hasn’t even met? In my opinion that just screams “low self-esteem” or someone who doesn’t give themselves enough credit and is either desperately seeking attention or is in some serious need for some penis action. What I’m confused about it why. I happen to think that this woman is quite pretty and wouldn’t need to be so hard up for some dick. I’m actually curious to meet her and talk to her and find out what her personality is like. Maybe that would shed some light on the amount of question I have running through my head right now.

What do you guys think? Am I wrong for thinking that this woman seems a bit “thirsty”? What reasons would there be for someone to behave in this manner? Do you think they are just inviting themselves to be used? Your thoughts on this matter would be greatly appreciated.

@TheKrayze1

 

P.S. I wanted to include one of the lovely lady’s pictures so that you can see how cute she is, but decided against it. If you want to see her picture you can DM me and if I deem you trustworthy enough I’ll share it with you privately.