"Make people sitting at adjacent tables wonder what the fuck it is you’re talking about."

I've had six days off since April 15. Completely unrelated to that, I found this on another blog I was perusing tonight:

There's a lesson here. Laugh with your friends. Talk about ridiculous subjects. Let your minds and conversation roam freely, without barriers or restrictions. Make people sitting at adjacent tables wonder what the fuck it is you're talking about. Tell those people what the fuck it is you're talking about if you wish, regardless if they want to hear it or not.

And most of all, treasure the time you have with your friends and loved ones. Times like this won't be here forever. Every day can be a gift, if you treat every day like Christmas.

And I really dug that, because it explains me so fully. The most fun I have ever had, at any given time, has typically involved me sitting around with some of my friends -- not necessarily doing anything in particular -- and talking about ridiculous things. Laughter-induced vomiting. Laughter causing an inability to breathe.

A coworker asked me what I do for fun tonight. Because I don't drink, I don't go to movies very often, and those two activities make up the majority of this coworker's enjoyment. I, of course, pointed out that I don't really have time to do much since I work seven days a week...and that's the extent of the conversation. Because this coworker wouldn't understand, just like nobody else would understand. Except for those that have the same hobbies and interests, that have the same experiences with you.

There's only eight people that truly understand the hilarity of Mitch Fuckin' Franklin, for example. There's only six of us that will know why we're laughing at a plate of meat and potatoes. There's only four of us that experienced the very cold forty-five minutes of "Let's do this!"

I have a phrase, I like to say "fuck off with your bullshit." And I say that to everybody who's ever given me a sideways look, or shook their head at me, or didn't understand what was so damn funny. You're not supposed to understand, and even if you tried, you couldn't.

So what do I do for fun? No barriers, no restrictions. I let my mind, and my mouth, roam free. I fuck with people's heads by saying ridiculous things; I dig reactions, they get me off.

I treasure my time with friends. I make fun of them, tease them, bust their balls...but always try to make sure they know I appreciate their time and effort, as long as they actually do make the time and effort.

And those that don't make the time or effort? Or those that become drama-obsessed? Sadly, I wash my hands of them. It's not because I hate them, because I don't. I still care. I just wish things could be different.

I promised myself to be drama-free, and I'm doing my best to remain that way. That means nobody's exempt.

My very best friend, of 24+ years...we're not on speaking terms, really, at the moment. My brother and I had a few days of silence, but we're okay now.

And then there's another that I'm not speaking to. All I can say is, you get what you give. You make the effort, I'll make the effort. I'm low on your priority list? You're low on mine.

And even in your need of a favor, a simple apology never seemed to cross your mind.

In conclusion, thank you to those of you who have spent your hard-earned money and precious time on shenanigans such as WrestleMania or ROH. Thank you for bringing me into your home for a weekend so we wouldn't have to pay for a hotel room. Thanks for always flying in, even if it's just for a night of ridonkulous behavior. Thanks for always providing the ride, even if it is a lunchbox on wheels. Thanks for entertaining me at work, as well as outside of work.

Thanks for the good times and great memories. Hopefully there will be many more good times to come, and great memories to recall.

Last night was a bit of a rough night, and I'm not sure why. I wasn't really sad or depressed, but then again I kind of was. I haven't really figured it out. I spent some time with my uncle, who I love like a father. I saw some great wrestling. I had somebody that I have, in the past, considered a very dear friend approach me and make that effort to have even the shortest of conversations with me. On her birthday. When she could have very well been with her boyfriend, or anybody else. But she chose to talk to me, even if it was only five minutes. Thank you. I had a few text conversations, all at once, that lifted my spirits. And I even had Perkin's breakfast at 11pm at night.

Should've been a perfect day. In a way, it was. But it wasn't. Something just didn't feel right. Maybe I was bummed that Frankie and Sally didn't come, or Scott, or even Greg and Patrick. Maybe I was bummed because I've given up on the oh-so glamorous professional wrestling dream. Or maybe I'm just lonely. Who knows, if I don't, chances are nobody else does either.

thks.fr.th.mmrs.
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