After finally getting to bed and becoming SOUND asleep, (Chloe kept getting up and down refusing to goto bed…) at 7am (yes..i want to put the hurt on her!), I was awakened at 9:30am by Christopher.

The horse got out. Again. God. Damn. It!

Apparently she loves the company of other horses. Preferably those that are about a half a mile up the road. This morning she kicked the gate, and it crumpled in fucking half! I still don’t know how no one managed to HEAR it.

We drive up there in the Focus, because Luis ran the fucking Escort all the way to fucking E. And re-obtained the horse. Christopher walked her back and I drove behind with the ol’ hazard lights flashing. The horse stepped on his foot twice. The second time, I think she did it on purpose. It was slightly amusing, but both him and I were pissed off.

This problem could be solved by: Getting a roll of electric fencing, and the repeaters, and the actual hardware to make it live! We’ve already got the fucking posts. Run it around the top part of the field, which is about 50 yards long and wide. But noooooo instead..the fucking stupid step dad decided to fucking go get shit he don’t need. (The whole reason I was woken up this morning, is because he “had an appointment” to get a chainsaw….stupid fucking lie, I know.) He needs a $150.00 craftsman fucking chainsaw. TO THE MOON YOU STUPID FUCK! They’ve got one. It’s old and dilapidated but it runs. Or, alternatively he could call a friend with one who would actually use the wood for his stove during the winter.

Nah..he’s straight thuggin and wants all new craftsman shit. I wish he’d pull the craftsman cock out of his ass…fucking useless twat.

Anyhow…yeah…the whole point of this post:

After I got back home, and crashed, I started having a weird dream. A lot of it escapes me, but I remember this:

We were living in an unknown house. I dunno who all was there, but I know I was. (heh) I remember details of it being a loft type room with a window looking outside and among all the normal bedroom things, a cream colored corded phone. Which rang.

I picked it up, and I found that Grampa was on the other end of the line. He was talking to me, but I don’t remember much except:

“Grampa? Is that you?!”

“Yeah, Son.”

“But….but you’ve been gone for a long time…”

“I know but….(I can’t remember the rest..)”

Grampa has been gone a little less than a year. It fucks with me pretty bad on some days. Today, after I woke up, I was mixing up some pancake batter and stopped dead mix and just stared off into space. I was remembering the phone conversation. I don’t know if it’s his way of letting me know that he’s still there, or my mind screwing with me, either way, it’s very emotional, and I prefer to believe the former.

Even writing this shit out (the last couple of paragraphs, including the convo..) has brought some tears forth.

I love you Grampa. Thanks for everything.

Michael Ray

Couple of interesting things:

Got pictures of my new minifridge:

And after sitting down and pondering, I think I came up with a layout that Greg wanted for his site.  He said he needed simple, red, black, quick loading and functional. After fiddling around with shit, I came up with what’s uploaded now at http://www.satanicbutterfly.com .

I wasn’t feeling too creative and didn’t feel like flashy shit would work too well, plus…the customer…or in this case, my tattoo artist is always right. I think I might swing by tomorrow and see what he thinks, or give him a heads up and let him check it out at work. I think I’ll go with the latter that way when I come see him he can bring his computer and I can fiddle with it again.

M.

One plus came up today:

I won a mountain dew mini fridge today. It’s from the transform your summer contest. I didn’t get the pepsi prime yet, but I’m still hoping.

I did feel a little pang of guilt as I was loading the fridge up…with COKE. Heh…

That was the song Ozzy goddamn Osbourne opened up with. Yeah…there are other bands there that were “heavy” and “metal” but you could tell that there is a reason Ozzy is called the godfather of metal.

That mother fucker can rock it out. It was an experience of a lifetime.

Now on to the bullshit!!!!

I’ll start at today and move backwards:

We can’t play this Saturday’s show, because Nicole is sick as hell with a bad sinus infection. There’s a small chance we’ll be able to, but I don’t want to push her. The reason it’s bullshit is because when it rains…it pours. This was the salt in the wound. It’s not her fault though, so I don’t blame her at all…

On the way to the bank today we had a blow out, kinda. We went one of the three ways to get to and out of our place. Through the trailer park. Nothing in the road, but the kids were out playing and I felt a THUMP. Didn’t think anything about it, went a few miles down the road out past the orchard and it started doing the fump fump fump shit.

Changing a tire in the fucking hot ass sun is not fun. (I busted a rhyme! HA!) Space saver on, and on the way.  After the bank we hit up Big-O, and they didn’t have Perrelli. So we had to do a Kumo because the Perrelli were special order. It was still 125.00!!! In the next week or so we’ll get a Perrelli to go back on, and I’ll get a dummy rim and use the Kumo as a  full size spare.

While at Ozzfest yesterday, I noticed a guy had a tattoo similar to my first one. Upon closer inspection it was EXACTLY the same, on the same arm and everything. The fuckstick noticed I was looking at his, and he noticed mine. He ACCUSED me of being a fan of his band. I replied with “excuse me?”, and he pointed to my tattoo then his. He told me that his guitar got it from a guy down at tattoo charlie’s, in Louisville a couple of years back. (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), and that they decided to use it as their logo. What kinda music you ask? Emo. He said their name is Chasing S(omething?) Saturn? Sunday? I hope it’s Saturn because I can just tell’em they’re chasing uranus. Heh…yeah…lame, but I’m pissed.

How’d they get it? The guy who did my first tattoo took a picture, and I sold him my original art for it so he could put it in his portfolio. I guess he’s whoring it out now. Who knows how many douchebrooms have it?  Well…not me…in a week or so.

I’m going to see greg, and he’s going to freestyle a whole fucking upper arm piece, covering it.  It marks the first time that one of my tattoo’s is being covered up. It also marks the first time that the tattoo that is being done isn’t my own idea. Greg and I are going to bullshit about it and see what we can come up with. Yeah, I know, but fuck…I feel these fucks just ripped all the meaning of it right out of my fucking life. While greg and I bullshit, I’m sure we’ll work some stuff in it that has personal meaning. I trust greg, he’s the fucking man.

Anyhow…that’s all for now…(I think..)

M.