Random thoughts from my random mind

Have you ever sat back and started thinking about some of the things you have done?

I’ve been thinking quite a bit recently. Someday we should have an open and honest conversation about it all. I keep a lot of what I do to myself. I find it hard to admit to myself what I do sometimes.

I should do a better job of documenting everything. It all starts to blur together. Stories like “The cop and my donut” happen every day. I start thinking many of them to be unremarkable because they are so common.

There was the trip to the bar where I had so many people in my car that one person rode in the trunk. He had a beer with him. He drank the beer, while in the trunk, without spilling it. That feat is more remarkable because I drove down back roads getting directions from inebriated passengers. Sudden turns and stops were common during this drive. Still impressed that he didn’t spill the beer.

The night at a bar where a former co-worker decided to “get his groove on” with an older woman with rotted teeth. She looked a bit like a hobbit. He was grinding against this troll and started making out with her. A group of us almost died laughing.

One night I had a ride home from the bar and, like a dumb ass, drove myself anyway.

An unforgettable evening led to what I refer to as the night I was “tiger drunk.” I fell both up and down the stairs that night. I woke up on the floor in the hallway with a pillow and blanket from my kid’s bed. I wasn’t sure how I got home. I could suddenly speak Cambodian. I was pretty sure I saw a tiger in the bathroom.

I can still put together quite a few phrases in Cambodian. Somali now too. Most of them are not things I should say in public.

I started writing a short story. It turned into a chapter. Rather than writing a book I stopped.

I picked up my guitar again. I have started to succeed where I failed before. Keith Urban still pisses me off. Why does he have to be so good and why are his songs so damn hard?

I have gone to bed at 8 p.m. and didn’t feel guilty. I have gone to bed after 5 a.m. and still made it to work before 8 a.m.

I raced a Mercedes. In a Saturn. He might have had me in a straight line, but I gapped him through the corners. I love the curves. Especially the good ones.


I have faced impossible odds. I was a mass communication major. I suck with numbers. The odds may say it is impossible. I don’t understand odds. See this finger? I will win. Bet on the underdog. I do.

I will not take your shit. Don’t believe me? Ask those that are no longer part of my life. Life is too short to deal with bullshit.

I have lost and found self-confidence. I am good and I know it. You are lucky to know me and count yourself among my friends. Not sure about that? Ask me – I will tell you.

I know what I want. I am stubborn. Just because there is a wall in front of me that I run into and bloody my face does not mean I will stop trying to get through that wall. I am blonde and thickheaded. Beating my head against a wall will not hurt my head nor damage my brain. Don’t believe me? Refer to the blonde, stubborn and thickheaded comment above.

I will not quit. Nobody likes a quitter. I have heard that my whole life. Suddenly people want me to become one. Make up your fucking minds already. Should people be quitters or not?

I believe all pitchers should have to stand in the batters box. The DH is for pussies.

Brett Favre is a traitor. I don’t care if the Packers cast him off. He is still a traitor.

Sleeping alone sucks. Sleeping with the wrong person sucks worse. Sleeping with stuffed animals? Maybe I need help…

While I was dating her, I referred to thorough cleaning as “Heather-proofing” my place. What do I call it now? Since we’re broke up does my being here make it “Heather-proof?”

NASCAR is for illiterate race fans. The intelligent fans prefer cars that go left AND right.

Michael Schumacher is almost constantly two-tenths of a second slower than his teammate. Can one of the greatest drivers of all-time really have gotten old and turned into a wanker?

I believe Ayrton Senna was better than Schumacher. RIP Ayrton.

Does my device make me the bionic man?

No, I’m not dating anyone. Why is everyone so worried about that? I know how long it has been, thanks for reminding me. I am not going to settle. I know what I want. Quit trying to force shit on me.

I don’t care what the doctors have said. Cigarettes, Monster drinks, alcohol and triple cheeseburgers will not kill me. Genetics are causing my septum to get thicker. Quitting all of those things would not change my DNA. Stop telling me how to live my life. Try helping me enjoy it instead.

Why do they say the third time is the charm? What is the second time? Or the fourth?

Totally random, I know. Just how I am tonight. I needed a break from my bucket list. Maybe that will be ready tomorrow…