I used to be a big fan of Louis CK, loved his comedy.
When he got busted for his completely gross, lewd behavior towards women he admitted it, apologized and went away for a year.
But now this week he goes on a self-pity jag talking a bout the last year being "hell" and all the money he's lost.
My God man, how bout the ladies' lives you damaged, any thought to that you selfish piece of shit?
I hope his career stalls forever, he doesn't deserve a fan base.
I’m still here waiting on that call. I have so much I want to say to you and I promise that I won’t chicken out this time. I know you’re waiting for the apology and I’m ready to give it, but this time I need you to be the one making a move.
I hate the fact in the workplace I have to lie, be passive-aggressive, be politically correct, be fake, pretend to thrive in a toxic environment, constantly deal with people shooting negative energy at me, be secretive, be manipulative and play strategy games so I can be liked and keep my job, and won't ruin my chances for advancement. As much as I stay away from all of this, my coworkers and my bosses suck me right back in! I have to make a break and work for myself.
Well, here we are. Legal pot. Can consume without fear of arrest. My confession is this is such a strange feeling after so long. Saw a headline that says don't throw out your old phone numbers. Legal weed expensive even before taxes. Too bad. In the haste to jump onto the money bandwagon I hope the government remembers that the traditional cannabis culture is one of compassion and fostering of good physical and mental health. WHO reports "In 2012, about 3.3 million net deaths, or 5.9% of all global deaths, were attributable to alcohol consumption.". Crazy. The 'evil weed' will now be treated with more respect, so long overdue!
Vancouver is infested. I see them running across the street and running across the top of the back fence. Two years ago our daughter brought home two adorable kittens, to date they have killed 215 rats...... sometimes they kill 2 in one day.
I’m grateful for my diminished sex drive. I no longer make poor choices in people or with impulsive actions. I’m not a nun, but am no longer entertaining the fleet when they’re in town either. Sleeping alone has been bliss.
I have noticed that if I'm traveling solo, on the plane, waiting for a flight or bus, solo traveling women always try to get my attention. It feels good because I don't normally receive much attention, so even though I'm not looking to meet anyone it's nice. I'm rather average looking, 5'11", a bit too thin. I'm usually passed up for the guy with 30 more pounds and another inch or two. But I think women want that moment - the mysterious plane meeting, the stranger taking the same boat. Something like that. So if the taller better looking guy isn't there I'm cast in that part because there's no one better at the moment to play the role.
When I'm lonely or sad I think about you.
The best moment of my life. A moment after which I could swim up creek and die. When we connected, you looked into my eyes and saw me gazing at you in wonderlust; passionate love with the meaning of life, the universe, beauty, art, and nature.
I've been rolling joints for 15 goddamn years and I still can't roll properly! I just bought myself a couple rolling machines.
I had a beautiful relationship with someone recently, but we had to end it (even though neither of us wanted to) for very complex reasons not worth hashing out here. He wanted us to still stay in texting contact, but I asked for a no contact rule so that I could get over him faster, and he could focus on what he needed to focus on. I've missed him deep in my bones, and I've resisted texting him SO much over the past few months, but I've known it was for the best. It was tough getting over him (or more accurately-it was tough getting over "us"), but slowly I did. I started dating someone else, and the urge to text him became less and less, and when I thought of him it was with affection and happiness for what had been, as opposed to sadness for what *could* have been. So....when I started reading this book, and it reminded me of him constantly, I thought-what's the harm in texting him a book recommendation?
And then I realized that when my iPhone deleted all my contacts for the last 3 years, that that included him. And that I had deleted all our conversations on iMessage so that I wouldn't be tempted to read them and then text him, so there was no record of him in my phone. And that I thus legitimately can not ever text him again...that I have no way of getting ahold of him. It seems crazy in this day and age...but it's true.
And even though I know this is probably a good thing...I have felt sick in my heart all day. He will never text me, because I expressively asked him not to. So this is truly, truly the end.
My confession is that even though I should not be, I am sad. I guess I still miss him more than I was admitting.
A few years ago, my partner told me he wanted to end our relationship. I had been with him since I was in my 20s. I asked him point blank if it was because he was interested in someone else. After he denied it, I caught him. I was shattered and I confronted him. He ended it and I told him I was fighting for us because I love him. I forgave him and we stayed together. But sometime in the last year I fell out of love with him. I stopped lusting for him. I feel like a wingless bird. I see blue sky up there, but I can't get to it. I can feel the wind, but I can't fly in it. What if this betrayal has pulled the feathers off me and I can never fly again, with him or with anyone else?
immature, unimportant confession ever.
I was pleased when I heard that Ariana Grande had split with Pete Davidson.
There was something infinitely creepy about them as a couple.
My father had an affair.
When my mother found out, ahe forbade him from speaking with the woman. When his lover tried to contact him my mother accused her of harassment and sent the police to threaten her. So the women could never speak to my father again. And my father was too afraid of my mother (and of facing the consequences) that he never reached out to that woman.
How do I know this?
Because my half brother recently found my brother and I so that he could try to find his roots.
I cannot even look my parents in the face anymore. How could they have been so heartless and cruel?
I sometimes resort to writing to certain people in my life about difficult situations, instead of talking to them directly. I only do this when past experience with them has shown that I won’t be able to offer my own perspective in a verbal conversation, because I’m not willing to engage in a shouting match, and I’m not willing to resort to personal attacks instead of focusing on behaviour and actions. These are people who routinely rant and talk over me, telling me all their reasons why I’m to blame for whatever the situation happens to be, without allowing me the opportunity to provide my own side, or to even defend myself. I have C-ptsd and being in that type of confrontational situation causes me extreme anxiety to the point where my heart races and I begin shaking violently, making it virtually impossible for me to be able to even form rational thoughts to attempt to respond. So often I need to leave or end a phone call so that I can regain some physical control and be able to process what was said. Once I’ve had a chance to think about it, I sometimes try to communicate by writing, which to me is much better than yelling and insulting someone. I always try very hard to be respectful about what I say, and accept responsibility when I believe I’ve been wrong. So if you don’t want me to write to you, I’d be very happy to have a conversation that doesn’t involve me being a target of a rant, you yelling constantly, and does permit me to say my part too, without me having to shout over you. It’s so frustrating when I feel that the people who do this appear to think that no matter what they say they’re right, because I can’t get a word in edgewise to contradict them!
I don’t regret having my kids. However if I had known that I would develop Crohn’s disease, and how much pain, surgeries and life altering it would become; I wouldn’t have had any kids.