Is It Too Much To Ask For? (repost)

** You were the apple of the public’s eye as you cut the ribbon at the local mall
A mirage for both you and us. How can this be real?
We love your body in that photograph, your home state sure must be proud
The queen of the United States, or have you lost your crown

Well aren’t you Miss America
Don’t you Miss America
Won’t you Miss America
Our love

Well are you really who we think you are
Or does your smile seem to wear you down
Is the girl who you once were screaming to jump out
And the dream that you must live – a disease for which there is no cure
This roller coaster ride you’re on won’t stop to let you off

Well aren’t you Miss America
Don’t you Miss America
Won’t you Miss America
Our love”.**

I have learned there are 2 kinds of woman that are into me. Crazy woman and ones I will make crazy. I am not sure when I became the shepherd, but I am now 100% convinced it is who I am. I want desperately to change this, but I am not sure how.

Since I separated from #2 I have dated quite a few women. Some were better to me that others, but they all have one thing in common. They are no longer with me, mostly due to me choosing to move on. It takes me a while to figure it out, but once I do, take 2 steps back and don’t let the door hit you where the good lord….ahh, sometimes they are too easy. I have a friend here in NYC, let call her CBP, and she tells me I miss the crazy indicators early and when I finally see them I still hope against hope they will be sane. “Run as soon as crazy rears its head”, CBP said to me recently. Sage like advice from one with the powers of a Jedi over my weak little Storm Trooper self. I might learn one day CBP, but I am having a lot of fun meeting the future residents of Arkham Asylum across this great nation of ours

Truth be told, I would like to meet someone that isn’t insane and stop this treadmill a’rollin’. I began this journey thinking a little insanity might equate to some crazy fucking, and in a few cases, it has done just that. Mostly it costs me lots of money, precious time and blood pressure medication. Recently it cost me 2 vacation days, a weekend of feeling completely out of place and damn near cost me my friend CBP. You are irreplaceable ma’am. You are going nowhere.

Maybe buying this many meals for the single woman of multiple states, listening to the stories of how this one or that one did this wrong or, worse, how this person was just amazing and blahblahblah. I ask about your ex so I will sound like I care, which I couldn’t possibly care any less. I ask about your job because I want you to think I care. I bet I couldn’t tell you the employer name of the last 4 woman I dated with a gun at my head. I can tell you the field they worked in, but employer, not a chance.

It’s not that I don’t care, it’s that I don’t care about you. I care just enough to get to the next base. I am a very attentive person once I get past the interview process, but my hard drive is full. If I remember your birthday or middle name, I will forget the recipe for toast. I like toast. I am not a stupid man (opinions vary but I didn’t ask you for yours. Eat a bag of dicks, with mustard), but I am however, forgetful. It is becoming a bigger problem as I grow older.

WHATEVER!!!!!!! If I forget something you think is huge, it is your fault for not writing it down or emailing it to me. FUCK YOURSELF.

Let me run down a few of the things that are hugely important to me that I have forgotten.

1. The birthdays of my entire family. I love them with all that I hold holy, but I am the worst uncle, brother, best friend, etc. in the world when it comes to birthdays. I used to say “I am a guy. I am not supposed to remember your birthday. That’s why I married (insert either #1 or #2 here)”. If I have forgotten your birthday ever, I beg your forgiveness. If you forgot mine, I take back my begging. LOL

2. The words to 48 Hours, one of my favorite movies of all time. This was back when the name Eddie Murphy put asses in seats. I used to be able to recite the entire movie start to end without missing a word. Recently I saw it and barely remembered the words to “Roxanne” by the Police, much less the movie. Sorry Eddie. I do still want the knife though. I, I, I want the knife. PLEASE!!!!

3. Oil Changes every 3 months or 3000 miles. They put a sticker on the windshield. They put both the date and the odometer reading at which I should return and change it on said sticker. I always remember….just a little too late. My poor truck.

4. The number of years I did anything. {i.e. the number of years I worked at (fill in the blank), was married to (fill in the blank) or the number of years I drove (fill in the vehicle)}

In closing, it looks like my time here in NYC is drawing to a close. I am soon to be joining the ranks of South Carolinians. If you are within the sound of my voice (or written words) and know of any non-crazy, single, able bodied females in the lesser of the Carolinas, holla at ya boy!!! I could always use a hook up.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Hakuna Matata! What a wonderful phrase

Hakuna Matata! Ain’t no passing craze

It means no worries for the rest of your days

It’s our problem-free philosophy

Hakuna Matata!

In light of my impending SC move, enjoy the only country song I know from the only artist I could think of at the time. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZjosn2u1gA

One comment on “Is It Too Much To Ask For? (repost)”