*Blog post started on October 8, 2020.
A part of me thinks I should just be taking the time before this shift ends to catch up on "The Ringer". Outside of myself, I do not know if I really have anything to draw people into a blog. There are plenty of 90 to 120-second YouTube videos I could share in this blog, but I would rather a blog be about writing. That is despite the feedback that people are liking the videos.
It all seems to be based around the video for my review of Ron Perlman versus Vinnie Jones (and other British actors that producer Perlman wanted to act against) film "The Big Ugly". I looked at the number of views, and it seems that I have heard directly from everyone who has watched it. This means that at least my friends can tolerate me. When I compare it to the clicks that the blog post has been getting, perhaps my face is a turn off and they are either just skipping to the text or turning away immediately after the visit.
If the latter is the case, it may mean that all of Twitter's cowardly, conservative cocksuckers are right when they just resort to calling me ugly. Of course, these assholes do not have the nerve to post any media of themselves. Perhaps the following are just bots with the most juvenile insults:
- @Deleno12
- @DvAnon2
- @TRUMPMOMENTS411
- @RyuDarth
- @teenytinytrout
- @cfufreedom
- @thomasc07497394
- @grudziar
- @Maranatha4
- @middletheroad
I have yet to check what they think of my latest thread via @catbusruss and @maineventzombie.
Every #President has had a #pet except for #Trump, or so I thought. Does someone want to inform #barontrump his dad doesn't consider him human?
Explains how @DonaldJTrumpJr and @EricTrump turned out the way they did.
And the general consensus from these twats, "It is a fake account."
It leaves me thinking back to the quote from Mr. Winston Wolf in "Pulp Fiction":
Just because you are a character does not mean you have character.
I guess that kind of defines my state of mind. After a vacation day on Tuesday and spending too much money at Big Al's, a gentleman's club I have been going to for 19 years, a revelation that I have to step away from my past finally settled in. It makes me think that I should shut down my Facebook account, but that is half of my promotion.
I do not think I am trying to hold on to the past like most of Morton High School's Classes of 1998 and 1999 who are still living in the town, but when you do not have many friends, you go to familiar places. It is not like I cannot keep this game up of fornicating with dancers (It seems I still can.), but I am not living there anymore. There maybe fun to be had, but I cannot stick around to develop friendships. Anyhow, Peoria is in my past because it had long given up on me anyhow.
Now I am in Champaign/Urbana, and I have yet to really establish any strong relationships to grow around. Another stop on my trip this week was to visit Stacia Hardin's grave, my best friend whose life thrust adulthood upon me. It is in the middle of nowhere, South Pekin. I guess I have a lay of the land from my time transporting high school drop out and delinquent wrestlers from all sides of the town to Next Generation Wrestling shows. Regardless, no one should really know Pekin layout that well.
Stacia
was the first person to have ever believed in me since I was considered
an adult. Addiction defeated her but she made it a point to not let it
hurt me. I cannot say that about the other addicts in my life. They
definitely did not put faith in me despite me offering it to them. The
self destructive friends believed in me, but those tendencies got the
better of them. It seems they have gotten back on their feet (FYR!), but
being from that portion of their past, they will not allow me to be
part of their present despite I know how not to fuck up.
This leads us to my latest ex who I chose to end the romance with. It does not matter if she believes/believed in me because she has to get on her own feet. The problem with the relationship was I was trying to do that for her.
When I moved down here, the dating scene was great to start, and I settled into a relationship about a month in. Now, yes there is the pandemic, but it has all been just flirting on apps. I suppose some people like the boundaries it gives them. For me, it seems like no one wants to take risks or they just get off on people admiring them. Do I want to only be a concept?
Now those YouTube videos make me feel less real.
I guess I am just looking for someone to take a chance on me and have a little faith that I can amount to something. My pro-wrestling zom-com script "Main Event of the Dead" is still in development hell (If you have any advice or want a treatment of the script, send an email to russthebus07@gmail.com), so blogging does not seem to work. Morons on Twitter think those who tell them they are assholes just claim the accuser is fake like the news. If only we could have a civil dialogue, at least we would need to be real. Outside my creative output, there does not seem to be a way for me to matter.
The only comfort is that the last two presidential cats had lived nearly 20 years. That mean I get eight more years of Eva...unless Socks survived because he got the best medical treatment at Walter Reed.
Fuck Medicaid. Socialized veterinary medicine is what we all need.
Siobhan :) - Pinterest
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