Fucked

So I've had a series of fucked up dreams over the past few nights. The first involved Lisa, and all I remember is that at one point I slapped her and at another she told me hated me. Don't remember the rest of it. Probably a good thing.

The one I had last night I remember most and disturbed the hell out of me. The major premise of it was that Lisa had gotten herself into some bad shit, I think from a dealer or something, and I was helping her to get out in a fairly bad way. Urban commando bullshit. The part which really got me, however, was when I got the news about Bandit. Apparently Lisa and I were camped out with my cat in a hotel room somewhere. She and I were out of the room and apparently while we were gone some armed men stormed the room looking for us. They found Bandit who, in typical Bandit fashion, acted cute and then attacked. He worked his way up the arm of the first man and did some serious damage to the face and neck, kind of like a more serious version of what he did to Jessi Lynn however long ago. He then started on the second man who was trying to get the drop on him, but as he was savaging his neck the man beat him with the butt of his gun and knocked him into unconsciousness. He then proceeded to unload his clip until my cat was little more than a stain on the hotel floor while his partner bled out loudly next to him. There was some more involved after that but frankly its not important.

When I awoke I was in that "shit that was really close to real, so close I should check things out" panic and leaped from bed to try and find Bandit, who was passed out in Lisa's bed with Wink and Jessi Lynn. Little pimp.

Gotta love him.

Freedom

Jayson sighed. He had put up with it for nearly a week, but now that was done. It was over. All of his prior attempts had failed, but through sheer force or will and a little dumb luck he had managed to get the creature through the chute and jetison it into the cold ocean below.

Now if you'll excuse me, Pirates are calling my name.

Fuck this game.

The Inconsistency of Friends

I often like to boast about the amount of crap it takes for me to stop considering a person my friend. To some extent it's true. I can take a large amount of abuse, letting it roll off me like water off a ducks back. However there is an extent to my patience, and it usually comes when someone hurts a friend or family member enough that the law must become involved.

As far as most people know that is the only way out of a friendship with me. I wish it were so.

There is a much more practical method of breaking friendship with me, one that doesn't land you in jail. It is called time. Over time, as contact between myself and a person lessens, I slowly begin to stop counting them on the list of friends I have. Good examples of this are David Blakey, Corey Lord, David McCormick, and to a lesser extent Paul Barlog.

I can look back at my life from second grade on and note hundred of friends. However the list today is far smaller. And I have just removed one more.

I hadn't yet stopped considering Sutter a friend, but he was very close to being removed from the list. His temperment, unreliability, and growing eccentricity were beging to become a problem. And then he does this. Not only has he been removed from the list, he has been blacklisted. I'm not sure I've ever blacklisted someone. Well, someone besides Desi.

I am sickened by you, my former friend. Where is the man I grew up with? You have dishonored yourself, and in doing so dishonored me and our friendship. I am not sure what my reaction would be should I meet you in passing on the street, but you can rest assured it would not be a pleasant one.

Work in progress

G
I'm just calling
Am
to say I love you
C
but the words
D
never came.
G
And I'm just calling
Am
to say I miss you
C
when you're gone
D
its just not the same

Am C
They say absence makes the heart grow
D G6
I'm here to tell you, it just isn't so
Am C
They say absence makes the heart grow
(let C ring)
Grow cold.

G Am C D