The wound isn't healing.

I do not know why this wound won't heal.

I want it to. 

You deserve better. 

Why am I still in love with you?

Truth is, I was never not in love with you. 

Im apologizing again for all the things I did that sent you away. I am trying to be a better man for our children. I hope they see that. I hope they realize this family is all that matters

 I know no one on this earth agrees with me. 

There's something missing and it's you. What magic potion do I need to make this go away, or for you to come back?

Why the hell do I feel just as strongly about loving you now than ever?

Is it because I can't have you?

I can't replace you, even though there are others waiting who say yes I can. 

But none of them are you. 

You are in my soul. It continually calls out for you. This yearning hurts physically. The guilt hurts incessantly. The regret gnaws at me like I'm the poor fat kid who couldn't run fast enough on the zombie shows.

This is dumb of me. I know damn good and well you don't want me.

I would crawl through fire, on my hands and knees if it meant you would be at the other end. There's literally nothing I wouldn't do to have you back at home, back in my bed, back in my arms, back in the place where you are honored and adored.

I have so many blessings in life. My kids, my friends, my job, etc. but without you to share it with, I am nothing.

custody

I'm about to start legal proceedings to get primary custody of my son. The main reason: He just doesn't want to be over there. The house is a shitty little shack that's always in disrepair in a shitty neighborhood. But it's perfect for her, since she's a shitty person who does shitty things with other shitty people. It's only matter of time before one of the scumbags who uses her as a cum receptacle shows up while he's there, and she has to explain why some 60 year old man is at the door looking for her. Or one of the emotionally crippled psycho bitches that are now her besties shows up in all leather asking if my son is a Dom or a sub. The kid needs an environment where he goes to bed on time, has a decent meal and not some shit that she threw together in the microwave. He needs a home, not a hovel. He needs to not be in a high crime area. An area she has no problem exposing my son to. 

Once my kid is with me, I don't give a shit what she does. She can take big black cocks in the ass until her rectum prolapses. That's her business. But while my kid is there, I want a 10 foot brick wall between him and her cum dumpster lifestyle.

FISST

I saw a video about conflict resolution in a relationship, called the FISST method.

F: I'm Feeling... State how you feel without using a "You" statement, which will be interpreted as an attack.

I: Intention. State your intention. I care about this relationship, so I want to have this conversation, even though it's hard and scary.

S: Solution. Lay out a solution. Here's what I think would help.

ST: We're on the same team. It's you and me together against this problem, not you and me against each other.

Blame

Do i feel guilty you left? Yes. I know my actions or inactions played a part in this. But you didn't say one word. You didn't let me into your life. Your hopes, your dreams, your fantasies, until it was too late. It would have taken 30 seconds for you to tell me how you were feeling. Instead, you took the evil way out. No one forces you to fuck a small army, leaving  behind a trail of tears, heartache and despair. And despite all that, my insides tell me I can still please you if you came home. They tell me I can forgive. But there will always be trust issues. But I assure you, I swear on my life, I will not stop communicating how I feel. I will not stop loving you. I just can't. And that has me fucked up beyond repair. You broke me. And I hope you can live with the ruins in which you left my life.

The last of it.

I gave away the last of her clothes. I feel fine about it. I'm of course sad that I have to do it in the first place. I also feel bad about all the money she spent on these clothes. We could have gone on a nice vacation, or marriage therapy, or just pay off debt. I'm sure her new house will not be as filled as this one, simply because there's no schmuck to pay all the fucking bills while she's out fucking internet randos and local civil servants. 

all of a sudden, I'm smiling

My beautiful amazing friend T asked me out again. I know it means nothing more than a hot friend inviting her fat friend to go watch a comedy show. But I dig hanging out with her so much. For some reason I never run out of stuff to talk with her about. At no point have I ever gotten a vibe that she wanted anything more than a friend.  I keep telling myself that to keep my crush response in check. Maybe I'll get it through my thick skull 💀.

Risky Business

So putting yourself on Fet has a certain amount of risk. So I don't do it. The account I have has random pictures of people other than me and no way to connect them. Tina not so much. While I would never ever ever out her to her job or anyone she knows. She could easily do the same thing to me with this blog. It would kill certain relationships or people if they knew how I feel about CMW. 

Obi Wan Kenobi once said, "Who is more foolish? The fool or the fool who follows him?" I've adapted that to my situation: "Who is more foolish, the cheating slut or the fool who is still in love her and wants her back?"

Maelstrom of pain

8/1

I went on yet another first date.  It was fine. I get to tell the same fucking stories, ask the same questions. I'm a journalist, I can ask great questions, but I just don't want to anymore. Maybe I was just in a shitty mood. 

I must have been tired. I cried on the way home. Why won't it stop hurting?

There are now 4 women who told me they want to be with me. Me. The fat kid who stutters, and is the king of social anxiety. I find that so amazing. Despite that huge ego boost, I still want the worst partner in the world. The shittiest woman who committed the ultimate betrayal. The one who not only doesn't love me, doesn't want me, doesn't even want to be in the same room as me. I'm broken. She broke me. I don't know if there's enough Krazy glue in the world to put this humpty Dumpty looking mutha fucka back together again.

I miss every fucking thing about her. I know she isn't the same person I married. I miss that woman

A posse ad esse

Free Keychain.

Get a free gift. No this ain't spam! I assure you. Would I lie to you? ;) plastic nameplates

The Times Picayune

My grandpa never drove from his house in St. Rose to the French Quarter on I-10. It was Airline Highway and Tulane Avenue all the way. Sure it took longer, there were a thousand red lights and urban blight on all sides, but that's how he liked to go, and if you were with him, that's how he was gonna take ya. That's how most New Orleanians feel about The Times-Picayune. It's a comforting presence that's been around since before ya mama was born. It's changed over the years, but you still got what you needed. As a journalist and native New Orleanian, my feelings are mixed about the T-P's decision to only publish a printed paper three days a week. That's like telling someone they can only have their morning coffee three days a week or only turn on the TV three times a week. It's a familiar link to the past (How many of yall go straight for the obits?), the present (What's da weather gonna be?), and the future (who da Saints playin' next week?). On one hand, this is the direction the news industry is heading. Eventually the line between internet, tv, radio and newspaper will be non-existent. The TP's move was partly because of this, and but mostly, I assume, because the industry is hurting for ad revenue so badly. Our culture as a whole is evolving toward getting information at the fastest pace possible. Reading a printed out newspaper with yesterday's news will eventually go the way of the telegraph and 8-tracks. You'll tell your grandkids, "Back in my day, we had the internet printed on paper. We called it a newspaper!" I know the daily newspaper in most parts of the country don't hold the sentimentality that the TP does. It is the exception, rather than the rule. Reading news on the printed page is a visceral experience as well as an intellectual one. It has a feeling of permanence. TV & Radio say it and its gone, and web pages are updated, but when it's in da paper, its dere fuh good. How many of yall saved the front page from Katrina or the Saints' Super Bowl victory? It's comforting to sit at the breakfast table, with the paper folded next to your plate reading about the latest political scandal. Sure you can do that with a laptop or iPad, but do you really want to shove one of those things under your arm as you head into the terlet? I think the fine folks at the TP know this, and that's why they've cut the paper down to three days. It would've been much more cost-effective to cut it out altogether and opt for an online-only newspaper. However, that would've prompted lawsuits, protests, and probably even a riot! That's why the Times-Picayune will not stop publishing a newspaper any time soon. We New Orleanians like our traditions, and we'll change 'em at our own pace.

Izzit Wrong?

Izzit wrong that I told a woman at work her 6-day-old turkey leftovers smelled like the twat of Satan's mother-in-law? If your food stinks, keep it home. I bring a sammich and ramen noodles that have no smell for this very reason. I don't wanna smell your shitty food, I don't expect you to smell mine.

Izzit Wrong?

Izzit wrong that I called a random co-worker "Welcome Back Kotter" just because he has a jew fro and a mustache?

Izzit Wrong?

Izzit Wrong that I didn't apologize to the weather anchor for taking a shit while he was putting on his make up in the newsroom bathroom? Izzit Wrong that I told a black lady at work she looked like Tara's crackhead mama on True Blood?

Twatsticles

I got no idea what that has to do with anything. I haven't written anything here in a while, so I'm writing something. It's the roadrunner and coyote.
I don't even know if coyotes really eat roadrunners. Just another fact I learned from cartoons. Like cavemen wrote on tablets with woodpeckers and when you bang someone on the head with a pan it makes a funny noise.

I've been writing business news on TV for a while now, and I've come to the conclusion that my best advice is for people to stop watching business news on TV. It'll just drive you crazy, may cost you money, and cause unnecessary panic. Yet my paycheck is based on reporting on such craziness, some of that paycheck gets invested in the things that I write about. Not quite a circle of life, but I think its interesting nonetheless. I've attempted several times to write stories that amount to telling people to calm the fuck down, but it's been poo-poo'd. Oh well, what do I know? People say our situation the US is so bad, but it's not. It ain't great, but it's a hell of a lot better than the rest of the world. What's the alternative? Living in China? The economy's great there, but you're living in fucking China. And those who blame the president or congress, if you're waiting for Washington to make your life better, you're deserve what you get. You think they can make the economy better? They can't. They can help it out, but in the end it rests on the shoulders of the people. Not the knuckleheads in DC, certainly not the guy sitting in the oval office. Of course I say this while we have 2 great jobs in our family. But that wasn't always the case, and I didn't whine, I worked like hell to make my situation better. I sacrificed, busted my ass, and didn't ask for the government to magically bestow a better job upon me. I learned many lessons, and now years later, I still work 6-7 days a week, even though I don't have to. I do it because want a lifestyle where I don't sweat when I'm paying bills and one that isn't dependent upon anyone but myself.

And what is this planking shit? Are you people retarded? Go fuck yourselves.

Louie is a good show.

What do you think? Hit reply and release your inner Denis Leary.

Annoying Newsroom Comments of the Day

From the same attention-starved idiot:
Let me go put my VEEEGGIIIEE BUURGGEERR in the refrigerator.
I'm used to places delivering until 3 am.

Whatever makes you feel better honey.
Jeez

Annoying Newsroom Comment of the Day

"Okaaay, talk to me later!"
Loudmouth broad's way of saying 'I'm so cool, this is how I end conversations.'
When I snap, that corner of the room's getting it first.

Newsroom Quote Of The Day

"He's funny for all the wrong reasons."

G, Cadd9, Am, D

And I'll lie too and say I don't mind
And as we seek so shall we find
And when you're feeling open I'll still be here
But not without a certain degree of fear
Of what will be with you and me
I still can see things hopefully

Annoying Newsroom Quote of the Day

"They been saying kids should eat dirt, cuz it gives them local immunity."

So much stupidity in so few words.