tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76041890465858978372024-02-08T12:39:26.656-08:00Kyle And His StyleKyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.comBlogger11125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7604189046585897837.post-47398667894618875672011-11-12T12:42:00.000-08:002011-11-12T16:54:09.784-08:00A Breakout PerformanceI sat there on the couch watching our new fan turn back and forth. We had installed one of these new fans that has no blades. I was amazed at how quiet and cool it was, before it dawned on me that without blades, the only logical explanation for its amazing cooling was devil magic. As a devout upholder of justice, I decided to get rid of it. But it was just so cool and refreshing. And I needed something to chill out with, because I was boggled over whether or not I should confront Roxxy over her debt consolidation loans that I saw on her phone. Would it be rude? Would it be helpful? Mid thought, she walked into the room from work. She threw an envelope at me, filled to the brim, bursting at the seams with 100 dollar notes.<br />
<br />
"There's your pay for the week."<br />
<a name='more'></a>What in the hell did she do to make that kind of money? And if she could make that kind of money, why did she need debt consolidation and all these financing terms I never really paid attention to in highschool? It always concerned me that I could never make a decision when it came to these kinds of things. Maybe Giancarlo had taught her the ways of currency trading or something, because I had read about the gold trading business online and they seemed pretty content driving their Mercedes in all the web videos.<br />
<br />
All of a sudden, a knock at the door.<br />
<br />
Carefully opening the door to avoid breaking the hinges with my herculean strength, it appeared to be an African American in a blue jumpsuit. Using my keen perception skills I learned from watching Dr House cure patients of incredibly random diseases that are incredibly unlikely to be afflicted on anyone like paneurohypothagnalthesia or mesothelioma, I could detect that this man was sweating profusely and incredibly nervous.<br />
<br />
"I'm the uhh, insurance uhh collector, and uhh you haven't uhh paid your uhh fees for uhh the last month uhh, so we can't uhh insure uhhh your car uhh."<br />
<br />
I knew this was a scam, because insurance companies just didn't hire any black people in this city, especially ones with speech impediments. I proceeded to karate chop in him in the neck before looking down the apartment hallway to see another fake insurance collector. I then sprinted down the hallway, bounding off one wall to judo kick him out the building window. I knew I had to pay for the window, so I left part of my newly acquired fortune under the land lords door with a post-it note saying "sorry :)".<br />
<br />
Although this did remind that I needed to keep appealing for car insurance because I really wanted my sweet ride to be fixed. I remembered back to a friend of Giancarlo's who worked at the very same insurance company I was with. I got her number off him and texted her to meet up with her for some coffee. We went to the Silverlight District, which one of the nicer parts of town, full of arts and culture. There was a festival going on with plenty of photographers taking photos of the hustle and bustle. Plenty of people were dressed up nicely so it was fitting that I was in a nice Armani suit and my new friend, Kelly, was in a long, asymmetrical red dress. We passed through some nice exhibits with people wearing only body paint and took some photos with them, which are probably gonna appear in the newspaper when they cover the festival.<br />
<br />
We sat down at Cafe De La Preten Cie Ous, a French sounding place on the corner of the two main streets where there was a magician showing off his ability to juggle babies and chainsaws without moving his arms. Amazed in all the lights and glamour, we stared out the window together, where I had to promise her a dance after dinner. In our conversation, we talked a lot about how fun and exciting my life was, and how she didn't like her boring desk job and she wanted to be more awesome like me. Naturally my ego enjoyed being stroked but she did seem like a nice girl, so I invited her to some of my activities, like skydiving and a few parties I was gonna go to. She was delighted but looked at the time on her watch, and her heart instantly sunk. I asked her what was wrong, and she said she had to go. When I asked her where she had to be at this time, she said she had to talk to some friends. I wasn't convinced. With Dr House's motto of "everyone lies", I knew she was deeply unsettled. After paying for the bill with my wad of cash, we left the cafe and I told her to take a raincheck on that dance. She smiled, but turned to walk to wherever she had to go.<br />
<br />
Knowing she was probably in trouble, I followed her at a distance. I had to wonder what could make her instantly go from on top of the world to such a devastated look on her face. I would never forget that sullen, depressed look for the next 173 minutes before I had planned to go get a few drinks with some gym friends. She stopped into this place called "Doctor Moriarty's Well-being Clinic". This sounded suspicious to me, because in my knowledge of science and medicine, there was no field of 'well-being' like there was neuroscience or podiatry. I followed around from outside, peering in from window to window as she moved about the place, before she entered the elevator. I climbed on some vines attached to the wall and climbed up to the second story before trying to listen in to the conversation.<br />
<br />
"My name is Kelly and I'm an alcoholic."<br />
<br />
"Hello Kelly" the room mumbled, as if they were zombies. She was surely part of a cult at this point. The doctors wore these white jackets like robes, and had strange dangling necklaces with a big circular symbol at the end, perhaps to symbolise the endless eternity of zombification they were to endure in talking like a mumbling crowd of the eternal undead. I had to save her. This window looked a little thin, but I knew a front assault was suicide. They might have some evil devil curse to turn me into one of them. Instead, I would have to employ some of my devious James Bond-esque subterfuge. I saw a doctor exiting his car from the car park as I stood a storey above him. His name tag said "Moriarty" so I assumed this was the cult leader on the sign. I leapt from the second story and proceeded to employ my pro wrestling elbow drop onto him. Knocking him out, I proceeded to drag him into the bushes and take his uniform. I was a lot younger than him, and my rippling, muscular physique made the clothing a bit tight, but the jacket was big enough to fit all sizes, so I was at least presentable. I took his car keys in case I needed to make a quick exit.<br />
<br />
I entered the place and luckily the receptionist was new. She looked similar to Kelly and I wanted to save her too but alas, I could only focus on one good deed today. She showed me to the escalators and entered them with me, before she began flirting with me, grabbing my behind and leaning into me with her very sizable bosom. I had to focus, so I pushed her back a little bit, before she began to tweet about how boring her job at this place called "drug addiction rehab" was. Whatever, I disregarded it to maintain my focus. I had entered the room where the zombie ceremony was talking place.<br />
<br />
"My name is George and I'm a meth addict."<br />
<br />
"Hello George", the zombies mumbled, before the doctor saw me. "You're not Moriarty!". They had caught me already after my perfect disguise. I guess I just have one of those stand out bodies and faces. No doctors looked as good as me. Two buff guys walked towards me, in the usual orderly scrubs seen in TV shows. One of them was holding a needle, preparing it for me. "Sir, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."<br />
<br />
I knew I had to defend myself, so I prepared a spinning kung fu uppercut on the left orderly, before continuing my momentum to show off a muay thai knee-to-face combo. To avoid lingering and being cursed by a devil zombie spell, I grabbed Kelly and ran out of there. Her panties must have been really uncomfortable or maybe her shoes were too tight, because she was kicking a lot so I flipped them off and adjusted her underwear for her as I was running to the car. She was screaming, but I knew it was because the spell was reversing as I was breaking her away from the zombie dominion of that doom cult clinic. Now looking into the car as I was approaching, I could hardly see any space for her. It looked like the car was just full of paperwork, so the only room I could think of was the boot, so I had to let her take up the space in there to avoid squishing her in with the papers. I managed to get to my place, but the key wasn't opening the boot up. I went upstairs to get my crowbar before I realised Roxxy had made me a nice dessert. It wasn't till about now that I remembered I left Kelly in the boot. As I looked out the window just then, I noticed the car was missing.<br />
<br />
Oh crap.Kyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7604189046585897837.post-33800907586160294152011-11-05T14:09:00.000-07:002011-11-05T14:10:58.509-07:00A Recipe for MayhemI stepped down each flight of stairs in anticipation. I was always the curious type, and this was certainly one of those things I just had to find out. The moment I stepped out of the door, the car sped away, leaving a screech and a small smokes storm behind it. A note fluttered in the air, landing in my hands.<br />
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"Big Papa is watching you."<br />
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Was this a warning? A threat? I walked back to my apartment to mull it over. I realise I didn't injure him and his boys quite a bit, and maybe he feels I stole all the girls he was friends with. I was a little worried. I'd never really made an enemy and I didn't want to start now.<br />
<br />
Roxxy had slept in and found me worrying myself silly on the couch when she woke up. I explained everything to her, and she knew she should calm me down. She happened to be the most calming person known to mankind, perhaps like a hot, female version of Bob Marley right in my very own living room. She asked if I wanted to go to a party being held by her friend Giancarlo. Instantly I recognised the name. Small world. He used to go to junior high with me, and played on the football team alongside me until his mother had left him and his dad with nothing but a mountain of divorce attorney fees, so they moved state to stay away from her. It was a big shock to his world, as his dad had a large fortune from his business which provided "bankruptcy alternatives", the irony of which only the most heartless could appreciate.<br />
<br />
So Giancarlo wasn't actually throwing the party, but his roommate Dave was the actual host. Dave had recently broken up with his girlfriend and just wanted a nice distraction (as well as maybe a rebound, I think) so he organised a party to get his friends together, have some great drinks, and maybe meet a few new people.<br />
<br />
Roxxy decided to have a few pre-drinks at our place, so she used this recipe. mixing vodka, grenadine, lime juice and Bailey's to create zombie brain shots, like in this photo:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.igeektrooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/20091029brainvodka.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="http://www.igeektrooper.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/20091029brainvodka.jpg" width="320" /></a></div> It was perfect since halloween was coming up and damn, they looked (and tasted) great.<br />
<br />
We headed to the party mildly drunk, and at the first sight of the guests, we realised we were under-dressed. Giancarlo's penthouse apartment in the city centre (known as The Citadel because it was huge) was amazing in all aspects of its design. He spared no expense in making this the most upper class party I've ever been to. Turns out he could afford it all easily, because he had made millions in foreign currency trading, spending hours of his time trading currency instead of a more conventional job.<br />
<br />
Luckily, the guests thought Roxxy and I dressed ironically, with my plunging v neck and jeans, and her tight, short dress with a plunging neck line. Everyone kept mistaking us as a couple, which was understandable, since we were the only people we knew at the party, since Giancarlo was nowhere to be seen. It's not like we didn't get along with everyone, just we didn't know them too well and were to scared of saying something stupid. Now, I had still had my interests in Jo C, and Roxxy just didn't really care too much for sex, so we didn't have any reason to pick up, so we just hung out, had a good seat and met anyone passing by. We played a game where we voiced other people's conversations across the room. Dave took a seat with us, explaining his situation and how he felt it was kind of hopeless. Roxxy, being the girl she is, comforted him, motivating him to keep trying by using some of the best lines in history. She was quite the charismatic girl, knowing exactly how to talk to guys it seemed.<br />
<br />
Dave stood up, straightened his tie, put a nice confident look on his face, and strutted into the crowd toward the dancefloor they had set up. Roxxy asked me if I wanted to go out and get some drinks at a club or something elsewhere. Naturally I appreciated her knowing that I prefer smaller encounters with 1 or 2 people at a time, and while I still enjoyed parties, they weren't really my thing. We were fairly drunk at this point, so it was time for piggy backs. I hopped on her back and she zoomed us around the city. Roxxy had some amazing legs, that, while feminine, were amazingly strong. She was running so fast it was as if she had snorted a mountain of cocaine confiscated by a drug rehab clinic. Zooming past the scenic hills, Roxxy tripped, tumbling us down a little hill. We were laughing and rolling together, just like a childhood dream.<br />
<br />
Before I could notice, we had fallen into the river, with both of us getting drenched. Now, of all the things I've learnt in life, with lessons in nearly everything, with experiences of doing almost everything imaginable, the one thing I haven't ever learned was how to swim. I know right? I always had nightmares about swimming when I was a child and I never got around to learning. I began to sink in my panic, as flailing my arms wildly was my instinctive reaction. As I went under, Roxxy's arm pierced through the water like a dart, grabbing my hand and dragging me to shore. Luckily her purse and my wallet were still on dry land, as they had fallen out on our way down. I looked around for my phone, hoping it wasn't still in my pockets. Suddenly, I could hear a light ringing in the distance. My phone had flown roughly 30 feet to the side somehow, I didn't really understand. As I picked it up, a notification appeared, showing a missed call from an unknown number. Maybe it was God's way of showing me where my phone was.<br />
<br />
This time, Roxxy's phone started to ring. It was Giancarlo, with a lot of banging, clanging and muffled yelling in the background. Now Giancarlo had a girlfriend a few years younger than him, but with my expert psychological knowledge, gained from a website called Archie's Advice, I also knew that he still harboured his mother issues, which is why he was infamous for picking up older women every now and then. And he wasn't above cheating on his girlfriends because he felt like he was justified in doing it. A little crazy, I know, but I still feel for any guy that was forced to trade a parent for a lawyer. Even then, I do feel a little jealous, as he looks great (not amazingly built, but dresses very well and looks after himself), comes from a European country so he has a sexy accent, and with a degree from a Brown Mackie College business school and his millions in the bank, he can get any girl he wants.<br />
<br />
But anyways, Giancarlo had headed out to a club infamous for its cougars. Cougars are older women who prey on younger guys for those not in the know about the club scene. Easily, he picked up a nice blonde woman, probably in her 30s (maybe even 40s), and went home with her. She had blindfolded him in the taxi and as they walked in, he took the blindfold off, witnessing a surprise that not even I would have been able to handle.<br />
<br />
This was his 16 year old girlfriend's house.<br />
<br />
He was trying to get out but the cougar was relentless after cornering her prey in her domain. He tried to get up off the couch but she lay on top of him kissing his neck. The kitchen lights flicked on, with Giancarlo's girlfriend looking like she just woke up from the noise. Her eyes widened in shock. "Oh shit" he thought to himself. The daughter started yelling at the mother for hitting on her boyfriend, the mother started yelling at the daughter for going out with such a sleaze bag. They both started yelling at Giancarlo for being a two timing cheater. Suddenly, Karma decided to throw a curveball at this most unfortunate moment, as the father had just come home from work. Now this dad looked like a big guy, gruff and tough, as if he had served in the army and joined a biker gang. Giancarlo knew that he wasn't gonna get out of this situation alive, as the father was heaving in rage when he found out what was going on. Giancarlo ran upstairs and locked himself in the first room he saw, where he began to make this phonecall.<br />
<br />
We hurried over to the address he texted us, somewhere in the suburbs. We were still drunk, but the bus driver was used to dealing with drunk people late at night, so he even changed the route to get us to the house faster. We stood outside the window, where we could hear the dad trying to charge down the door and the whole family yelling at every other person in the house. We told Giancarlo we'd catch him if he jumped, and considering it was either a one storey drop or facing what looked like a professional wrestler combined with a bear, he picked the right choice. He landed on top of the both of us, and we all fell to the floor. The door had slammed open and the dad looked from out the window at all three of us peeling ourselves off the lawn. He yelled something we didn't understand as we were too busy getting the hell out of there.<br />
<br />
As we were walking past a park, Roxxy needed to go to the toilet, so she gave me her purse to hold. Standing there, talking with Giancarlo about his favourite TV shows, he remarked that we should get a taxi and head somewhere to drink away the unfortunate nature of his night. I used Roxxy's phone, as mine was running low on battery. Her web browser was still open, with pages on debt consolidation and the auto insurance quotes I had needed for my little car accident. The first page was the one that surprised me. What did she need consolidation loans for? Did she have money trouble? I didn't want to snoop around on her phone any longer, and I felt guilty that I uncovered what I did.<br />
<br />
Just as I closed the browser, a phone call appeared. It was from Dave. Turns out, at the party, he met the weirdest girl eyeing him off from across the room. She looked a bit haggardly, and looked like she had a lazy eye. People didn't know if it was a Halloween costume or who invited her or even when she arrived. She was just there. She instantly locked on Dave from across the dancefloor and passed through people to get to him. Dave turned around began to dance with another girl, who was a brunette model from Bro Life Magazine, where she was famous for her amazing swimsuit pictures. This other haggardly woman pushed the model out of the way and tried to get in close with Dave. He freaked out, stepping back, but she insisted on wrapping her arms around him. He called her the octopus, because for every hand he peeled off his back, another two seemed to appear on him. She tried pushing her away and eventually succeeded. She seemed very beat down, and offered him a drink. He felt guilty about rejecting her so he gave her his number before going outside to get some air.<br />
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He turned around to see her following him from the stairwell. He walked faster, and that's when he started the phonecall. We decided he'd be safest with us, so we told him which park we were at and he ended up grabbing two bottles of some $100+ vodka to ease up the night. We started drinking in the park, sharing stories and getting to know each other a bit better until we heard a loud "OI!" from the darkness. Giancarlo's (I guess it would be safe to say ex) girlfriend's dad had brought his biker looking friends in search of us. They had formed what looked like a great crime-fighting biker crew, yet they were still intimidating as hell. We decided that there was no way we could talk our way out of this since he had formed a whole crew to come and get us. We darted back into the suburbs and used the neighbourhood to try and lose them. Crossing streets and diving over fences, they followed us at breakneck speed, especially for their size. Jumping over one silver fence, I realised too late that a pool was on the other side. Holding my phone up in the air to keep it dry, I submerged deeper into the pool for half a second before Roxxy knew instinctively about my lack of swimming ability, grabbing my collar and pulling me across.<br />
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We continued jumping fence to fence and turned sharply to find a gas station in a somewhat commercial area. Seeing a half open truck door, we jumped in the back to hide. We silently sat, hoping that the biker gang would pass by. We could hear their voices discussing the chase a few feet away. Tensions rose in the truck as we were all scared they would find us, where we would be cornered in the truck. Peering through a hole in the truck door, we could see there were about 5 of the guys.<br />
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Out of the side of the street, we saw Dave's newly acquired friend, holding a large number of cats. Yep, she was a crazy cat lady. She started yelling at the bikers and throwing cats at them, before proceeding to open a can of whoopass on them. This old, ugly, witch-like lady had some moves like Jackie Chan, dropping all 5 of the men to the ground, which we consider defending her new prize she found in Dave. She walked away with her cats and his since never been seen.<br />
<br />
With the conflict resolved, we tried to get out of the truck, but the door had been slammed shut and locked tight, leaving us trapped. We decided it was pointless to try, so we decided to the finish drinking and sharing stories. I feel a lot closer to everyone in the truck at this point, and I certainly see myself being better friends with Giancarlo and Dave, and definitely becoming great friends in the future.Kyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7604189046585897837.post-13606601847324340052011-10-27T13:42:00.000-07:002011-11-05T14:18:36.088-07:00A New FoeI've never been quite so angry. My car crashed the other day, rendering me with a hefty repair bill. To make things worse, my insurance wouldn't cover it, because apparently it costs too much to pull that damn kids tricycle out of the wheel. But what really makes me angry is what I found out about my situation with Jo C.<br />
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</div><div>It started as an ordinary day. Roxxy had bought me breakfast with her savings of coupons and vouchers from leaflets handed out in the city. I had borrowed a mailman outfit from her wardrobe, which I assume is just a left over costume from her acting career she occasionally mentions. Anyways I went to Jo Cs house as a mailman, delivering her mail, and giving her the nice letter that someone suggested I send her. I also decided that the other suggestion of a model replica of the penis of the doc from Back To The Future was appropriate, because the sheer randomness and quirkyness of it all would make her laugh and see how funny I am, at least according to all the Zooey Deschanel movies I've been watching with Roxxy lately.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Walking straight past the government guards stationed "inconspicuously" in their windowless vans, I opened the mailbox and a chill went down my spine as I read the other envelopes I was putting in there. Insurance bills and banking statements were ordinary enough, but one pink envelope was from a guy named Mark. Was someone else trying to replace me? I had to find out.</div><div><br />
</div><div>I pocketed the envelope and swiftly used the mail van to get home. I decided I enjoyed the handling of the mail van and that I would keep it, because the mail depot seems to have enough vans anyway. And it's not like they actually need to get anywhere in a rush, because all deliveries happen when it's not convenient for anyone involved.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Hopping onto the couch I opened the letter to discover a guy named Mark Toe creeping on Jo C. He even sent her pictures he took of her, and some receipts and bills he probably stole or something. What a freak. I decided to call up my friend Doug who used to work in the IT department of some building company back in my old city, before he was fired for hacking some kind of mainframe. Doug decided he would gladly help me find out more about Mark and see if Jo C was in danger. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Uggh the things we found. Part of me wishes we didn't have the technology to see any of this. On his blog, this guy had pictures of kids sitting on this guy in a red suit's lap. What a fucked up fetishist. He was also a terrible writer, and his blog was full of the most retarded musings I've ever read in my life. Not even like 12 year old Facebook status stupid, but even worse.</div><div><br />
</div><div>He writes a depressing blog post after another, telling people about how he shaves when he's sad about this girl he likes having a boyfriend. And he makes it sound like it was a life altering shave. As if when the blade touched his face, the heavens opened up, and Jesus himself showed him the meaning of life (which I already know, because this did happen to me once, which you would recall in my blog post). He also fucks up the English language worse than I once messed up a polar bear when I went to Sweden to hang out with this guy I was webcamming with on ChatRoulette. He then talks about how he listens to obscure music and is inherently superior because of it, which can only impress the ladies once they hear of his favourite band being something no one has ever even heard, and doesn't have a genre because "arbitrarily classifying music is like restricting it to a nazi death camp". Naturally, I'd agree, because when I say a song is a rock song, I'm basically like putting the band into a 4x4 room and turning on the gas to watch them slowly die in horrifying agony as part of my political regime of racial intolerance and supremacy.</div><div><br />
</div><div>This weirdo can't stay around Jo C for long. It wouldn't be long before he would spring her into one of his weird sexual fantasies and she'd forever lose her innocence. I guess this pseudo-intellectual hipster would be added to my list of people I'd have to keep an eye on to protect Jo C.</div><div><br />
</div><div>As I'm typing this, I can see someone outside the window to my apartment with binoculars looking up from his car. I'm not sure if he or she is looking at me but it's certainly suspicious. Come to think of it, I remember this car, but I can't remember from where... It's not a government vehicle, that's for sure. I'm gonna go check it out.</div>Kyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7604189046585897837.post-47320759199550143552011-10-21T14:11:00.000-07:002011-11-05T14:14:25.554-07:00A New FriendJob hunting is hard. Really hard. Waking up at 6:00 in the morning to print off resume's and heading off to find a job is hardly fun. But sometimes it pays off to be diligent and not live off welfare. Sometimes, we find in times of trouble, that we get that break we're looking for. And that break just happened to become my best friend.<br />
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I had started the morning as usual, with a double shot of espresso and logging onto my Okubai Tenshin account to see if anyone wanted to buy the useless, soiled furniture left behind in my apartment from the old owners, as well as checking to see if anyone responded to my "Room mate wanted" ad. No replies. It wasn't that I lived in a dodgy area or anything, but it appears no uses this website for anything other than selling stained mattresses to fetishists and some company named Sleep E-Z Beds and Mattresses. I left the apartment, responding to any and all ads for employment in a large radius. Soon, it seemed the sun was coming down, and I decided to spend some time getting dinner as I was starved for something a little more entertaining than ramen.<br />
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I drove down to the Sunlight Boulevard, a district known for it's flashy lights and nightlife. It was a perfect place to find a bit of excitement, as I couldn't get close to Jo C's house without the government kidnappers raising a few eyebrows and barrels. Figuring I could do with a bit of energy, I went to the All-Nite Dance Club. The lights were flickering and I couldn't read all the letters at a time, but I could tell the atmosphere was positive and could definitely take me out of my stressful life of being unemployed. The music was loud and energetic, and the dancers were very enthusiastic about their job, it was great to see such job satisfaction. I even entertained the thought of working there myself, seeing how happy the men and women on stage were. I chuckled to myself, knowing I could never reach the level of skill in dancing as these individuals had. While I have spent time learning how to dance, I couldn't really tell how well they were dancing, as this was a new style to me. I was hardly a critic, but judging by the tips, these people were masters of their art. The crowd flocked to the dancers and couldn't even wait until the routine was over, as they literally threw their money at them! Crazy, I know, but some of them (and I don't care if you don't believe me) even put the money into their costumes, to keep it from flying away.<br />
<br />
I took a seat near a window overlooking the boulevard, and faced a building across the street. The big neon red sign flickered gloriously. The sign read in big, bold letters, "Sunlight Motel", I had read in a tourist guide that it was famous for being amazing at service, so I figured I would check it out one day, but perhaps not tonight, as I had to take it easy. I ordered a few drinks and a steak from a very friendly waitress on rollerblades. I had never seen such a fun establishment before, I loved the place. Eventually I would need to go to the bathroom, and as I did, I noticed another man in a booth follow me in. I answered nature's call, and as I exited the stall, the man stretched his arm, leaning on the wall and cutting me off. Not in an intimidating way, but very friendly and smooth, as if he had done this a million times over. His long, slicked back pony tail and long nose intrigued me, but I was hardly one to judge. Although wearing sunglasses inside made him roughly 43.35% sexier according my Girls! Magazine.<br />
<br />
"Hey man, I got what you need."<br />
<br />
I was confused by what he meant until he outstretched his arm and opened his palm. It was two of my bird flu medication pills! He even went to the trouble of engraving smiling faces onto them. I couldn't be any more excited, and he could totally notice, as his eyes lit up as mine did. I really didn't know the city had a free healthcare program like this, but it was very nice. Usually I would have to pay quite a bit of money for bird flu medication, especially for the vaccination, but I guess life was looking up for me. I put the pills in my pocket and thanked him, before returning to my table. He looked at me from across the room and winked, and I smiled politely back at him. I turned to look out the window once more, and saw a lovely girl standing outside the motel. She gave me a cute smile and a wink before beckoning me over with her finger.<br />
<br />
I stood up, paid my bill and walked down to see her. She greeted me with a hug, proving that she was perhaps the friendliest and most trusting person I've ever met. I introduced myself, and she shyly replied, "and I'm Roxxy. Roxxy Rebel." A strange name, I thought to myself, but I was hardly in the mood to be critical of anything. She smiled. And boy, what a smile it was. Her makeup was done perfectly, as if she had done an entire degree in beauty school. Her hair was long, and she had tattoos on her arm. I had to double check to see if I was just dreaming that I had gone back in time and met a pin up girl from the old days.<br />
<br />
We walked down the boulevard, past all the attractions, talking passionately about everything. Conversation went from the weather to the US economy, to the expensive nature of bird flu vaccines and medicine, to the difficulty of getting a loan and how insurance companies can be really dodgy. She remained focused on me, eventually holding me closer to her as we walked to get icecream. If I didn't know any better, she kind of liked me. And before I could tell her I was already keen on another girl, her friends walked towards us. They were all wearing tight, fitting clothing, which must have been amazingly comfortable given how well it hugged their bodies. They approached us as a group and all seemed to smile at me very politely. They were certainly interested in me, and I felt quite good about myself. These were the nicest ladies I had ever met.<br />
<br />
One of the girls, a brunette with tanned skin and some killer eyeshadow spoke to Roxxy. "Big Papa is coming, and he all mad." A car pulled up on the side of the road, I hadn't a chance to ask what was going on before a man stepped out of the car with two of his friends. The two friends stood next to the car silently as Big Papa walked towards the girls, with an expression of hatred on his face. He started speaking to the girls. It got heated real quick and they all started yelling. Some of the girls were crying, scared as all hell was going to break loose. Now, I had decided to use my skill I learnt from watching The Mentalist to see what was going on. Big Papa didn't look old enough to father so many different girls, especially as they were different races, so he was obviously a sleazebag who cheated on his wives. It became obvious to me. It all hit me at once. He was trying to ask his daughters for money to buy some birdflu tablets and needed some help. I stepped forward, thinking that the guy in the club was my guardian angel.<br />
<br />
"Hey man, I got what you need."<br />
<br />
Big Papa looked at me.<br />
<br />
"Where did you get this?" he said, in as intimidating a voice as he could. I was a little confused.<br />
<br />
"Bro I got these for free from some guy in that club across the street. The pony tail guy!"<br />
<br />
Big Papa looked at his friends and then back to the girls. The anger on his face was almost cartoon like. He grabbed Roxxy by the hair and raised his other fist. As he went to swing, I grabbed his wrist and broke his arm in one swift movement I learnt from UFC. His friends sprung into action. I quickly spin kicked the one on the right in the face, and continued my momentum to throw a left hook into the thug on the left. Both of them dropped to the ground, without making a sound. Big Papa turned to face me and began to charge fiercely. I sidestepped, much like the matador lessons had taught me, and tripped him. His face slammed into the car door window. I opened the door and placed his head inside, before shutting it a few times to make sure the big guy was down and out.<br />
<br />
The girls cheered for me, surrounding me and giving me money. They had their hands all over me, carrying the same excitement as the club had introduced to me. I was pretty happy, and thought to myself that maybe I could protect these girls, like a security guard. I jokingly asked Roxxy and all the girls quickly agreed. Maybe I found my job after all. I decided to celebrate by continuing my night with Roxxy, as the other girls departed to "work the streets" which I think means to also look for a job, but in street linguo.<br />
<br />
Roxxy and I went to a nice cafe where she asked for the bird flu medicine. She took both tablets, and we continued to talk about how the season finale of Breaking Bad had affected us spiritually and emotionally. Soon she started acting wierd. She looked ill, as if she were going to faint. We started walking to her apartment, before she lost control of her legs. I caught her before she could fall but she was definitely unconscious. Not knowing the rest of the trip, I placed her over my shoulder and carried her to my home and placed her on my guest bed. I fell asleep thinking about Jo C.<br />
<br />
When Roxxy came to, I made sure she was ok. She seemed pretty unphased by the ordeal last night, as if it were the usual. I made her a breakfast consisting of pancakes with jelly centres and we started talking about everything again. She asked if she could stay here, as she didn't feel safe in her neighbourhood. I understood I did need a roommate and my security work for her and her friends would fulfill both of my needs at the time. Not to mention, she was an amazing person in every respect. I could hardly find a reason to reject her.<br />
<br />
Our conversation eventually turned to who the girl on my phone's wallpaper was. I told her about the Jo C story, and how the government had kidnapped her away from me. She was angered by this, sharing about her own hatred of the government and her rebellious side really shone bright. It seemed I had found an ally. She promised me she would help out in any way she could, and would definitely get her girlfriends to help in the situation.<br />
<br />
It was looking like things were looking up for me. I had found a new best friend, a new roommate, a new job, a new group of friends and a new confidant. All in one person. Roxxy Rebel.Kyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7604189046585897837.post-86924070743630249152011-10-02T21:37:00.000-07:002011-11-05T14:19:36.517-07:00An Adventure in FoamSorry for the lack of updates and my sudden disappearance over the past few weeks, I've been busy packing and moving. You may wonder why I left my cozy home, and like all good stories, this one begins with a girl.<br />
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You may know her from my previous blog posts, you may know her in real life. However you know her, you'd understand that she is a fairly ritualistic individual, following strong patterns of organisation. So I was out practicing my photography. As my field of expertise is in the range of floral and nature based photos, I was instantly in love with the garden of that she kept so perfectly. Like a slice of the Garden of Eden right in my neighbourhood. However, I noticed something strange one night, piquing my interests. It was largely out of character for her to not be gardening when I did my rounds for photos. She would always walk into frame for my shots, which always get me a laugh. I stayed at a distance because I agree with master photographers, who believe that staged photos where you get people to stand exactly where you want are never real, and they don't truly capture the experience, the moment, without justice. Now, I wouldn't go crazy because I didn't want to be that suspicious boyfriend type, who lacks trust. But this happened every day. She didn't show up. I was worried.<br />
<br />
Then one night, I notice headlights pulling up to her driveway, followed by another car. She steps out of the first car, with a tall man exiting the second. They both entered the house. I stayed for a few hours, watching episodes of Breaking Bad on my phone (I absolutely LOVE that show), until they finally left. She shook hands with him, and he walked away. She looked emotional, as if she had been crying. I was angered. Was she seeing this man? Could she possibly have found a new boyfriend? And why was she crying? Was he abusing her? I had so many questions that couldn't possibly have been answered by asking her so I tried to be a good, trusting man by leaving her alone. I took a photo of the man's plates and went home to my laptop, where I could look him up on various websites.<br />
<br />
Turns out he was the shady lawyer type. Drives a fancy car and did great in high school, all the way through university. Wears fancy suits and drinks strongly, manly martinis. He outclassed me in all ways. Maybe this girl was just as shallow as other women. I kept on searching, in hope that maybe I could find something that didn't just leave me depressed. His business dealings made him an expert in "witness relocation". I don't know what that means but it sounded unsafe. I've played enough Call of Duty to know that neutralise is military slang for kill, and relocation is imprisonment. Was he going to kidnap her? I knew now that I would need to take extreme measures. I messed around with security certificates on Facebook and tracked his address. Taking my roommates van down there again, I decided to use my lockpicking skills I learnt from many stealth games to let myself in. His house was immaculate. It was scary seeing someone so meticulous in organisation. It was as if he had so many skeletons to hide. I entered his study room and rifled through a cabinet full of files. Naturally I found her file and saw that she was getting her name changed. Was this part of her imprisonment? Was he going to force her into a new name to become assimilated in the process? I couldn't believe I was becoming entangled in a conspiracy this big, but I knew for sure that I loved her enough to have to save her, regardless of the cost.<br />
<br />
Suddenly, lights headed into the driveway, beaming through the windows. I was frozen in fear as the psycho man was coming into the house. I flicked off the light, but not fast enough, as I heard his strong footsteps pounding towards me. I could hear his voice for the first time.<br />
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"Hello?"<br />
<br />
"Is anyone there?"<br />
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I stayed silent, trying to see an exit from the room. I slipped out one door, leading to a separate hallway, almost identical to the one I used to enter the room. I could hear him closing the cabinet drawer, as I stepped further into the labyrinthine maze that was his house. I stepped closer and closer to the backdoor that I entered, trying to retrace my steps as stealthily as possible. The door was locked shut and I didn't have time to pick them so I hid behind curtains in my panic. I couldn't really think of what to do, and all I could hear was his footsteps coming towards the room. I made a last ditch effort to run to the kitchen and grab a knife to defend myself from this psycho kidnapper. I take a few of my stress pills to calm down, giving me my signature grin that you may know and love. He steps into the room, and instantly notices me. Without asking a question, the psycho grabs a bottle from the bar and launches it at me. I duck instinctively, as part of my breakdancing routine I trained earlier (it's commonly known that breakdancing is the second most seductive form of dance, next to the robot). He continued to grab bottles from the bar and launch them at me in rapid succession, as I continuously dodged, ducked, dipped, dived and dodged the merciless barrage. He reached over to the top of one of his shelves, as we relocated to different sides of the room. Unsheathing a katana (seriously, who keeps deadly weapons in his house, what a creep), he angrily yelled at me, but I couldn't discern what he was actually saying. He sliced a rope holding up a chandelier, which promptly collapsed in a cinematic glass explosion. I had jumped out the way, but I couldn't establish my grip on the floor. I slipped on all the champagne and bourbon, tripping over, with my knife plunging deep into his chest. He dropped the katana and slumped onto the floor as I tried to stand back up, slipping on a mixture of alcohol and blood. I ran to the study, grabbed the file and ran as fast as I could, using his keys to open the backdoor and getting into my van.<br />
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I showered for about an hour and a half, trying to cleanse myself of the blood of this psycho I had just encountered. Overlooking her file, I quickly took notes and disposed of the papers. The girl who I loved was having her name changed to Jo C, and was being moved interstate. I couldn't believe my eyes, but I knew I had to save her. The next day, I drove around a block away from her place, walking closer. Looking on my phone, I saw the newsfeed showing that her boyfriend had been murdered. Removal trucks were outside, with some weird government guys outside. The had some weird names written on their jackets, something like SAWT or SWTA or something like that. These guys looked serious, they had machine guns and body armour and everything. I wouldn't be able to take them on by myself, so I decided to simply trail them from a distance, maybe find out where they were taking her.<br />
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I slipped my mix tape I was going to hand over to her into my CD player in the van and followed from a distance of at least 3 cars. The convoy was professional, and I had continuous thoughts that I was in over my head. But as anyone knows, love makes you do stupid things. They entered the airport and I used my savings to buy a ticket to get on the same plane. Another one of these suited guys with an earpiece was with her, with an awfully fake polite facade. I was increasing enraged, but I knew the airport was the last place I would want to make a stand. I sat on the plane a few seats back from her and simply waited. A man in a suit sat next to me. He was increasingly interested in me, staring at me when he thought I wasn't looking. I know my body looks great from bodybuilding and I was flattered he was taking an interest in me, but I don't really swing that way (sorry boys). He was messaged on his phone, and like any commuter on public transport, I took a sneak peek. A picture of me turned up on the phone. Oh god, he was stalking me. I've never had a gay guy stalk me like that but I was instantly creeped out. He flashed a quick facial expression to another guy in the suit a number of rows ahead before he turned to face me.<br />
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"Sir, could you please follow me to the emergency holding bay?"<br />
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Emergency holding bay? I questioned it in my mind. Was that slang for the toilets? Did he want to "hold" me? I instantly became nervous. I had never been talked to like that and I was very much flattered but I just didn't really see anything compelling me to really go for it. I was hardly curious or feeling experimental at all. I declined, naturally, but I was still really nervous cause this was such a new experience and he did seem really passionate about bringing me to the holding bay. He grabbed my wrist and insisted, asking firmly. I pulled my wrist away, recoiling in horror at the persistence of the guy. We then struggled, with him trying to pull me away from my seat and myself trying to hold my own from this guy's sexual assault. Suddenly, he stopped struggling, which I thought was him coming to his senses, but then he started shaking violently. My heart started racing and I knew something had to be done. Even if he was trying something weird on me, my Christian teachings have taught me to turn the other cheek and help others in need.<br />
<br />
"medicine..."<br />
<br />
"... in my pocket"<br />
<br />
I quickly disregarded the possibility that this was just a crafty gay ploy known in the community, but I quickly reached into his pocket. I felt a long hard object and assumed it was his medicine administering device. In his violent shaking, his pocket pressed against my hand and I accidentally grasped the trigger. I heard a spark and he tightened up before going limp. Perhaps he just needed to rest after that strenuous ordeal. I left his body alone, pulling a blanket over him to keep him comfy, as my parents always taught me the importance of good hospitality, which was shown in the Bible by the Good Samaritan, which has always been an inspiration for me. My skills in being a master of Where's Wally, trained through my professional experience in being a hawk expert, allowed me to spot the ID badge of my now sleeping companion. My first thought was that his parents must have been ridiculously drunk, cause seriously, who calls their son Air? Like the last name, Marshall, made sense but seriously, what a ridiculous name. As the plane landed, Jo C had moved rapidly out her seat and the suits followed her. They were all hearing some radio message and quickly moved her, grabbing her arm. She was visibly uncomfortable and I wouldn't stand for it. I followed but I knew I would have to keep my calm to stay safe from these government agents. This was a big deal and my zen like patience would have to come into play.<br />
<br />
I grabbed a taxi to follow the convoy and called up my accountant to check my finances. Naturally I made sure my assets were able to be ready, as I pulled up to a free apartment in view of her place. I could see suits standing outside and I was ready to go all in. I bought the apartment, high up in the sky where I could learn the patterns of the kidnappers. I was going to be the Liam Neeson of my own movie, but I had to be smart. I had to be patient.<br />
<br />
And so here I lay in waiting. Training, observing, learning their patterns. Here I await my dinner with destiny. Here I watch for the day when I will bring down the government to liberate my precious.Kyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.com35tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7604189046585897837.post-35399282380916918872011-09-09T10:46:00.000-07:002011-11-05T14:20:34.777-07:00An Explosive WorkoutYou guys won't believe what just happened the other night. Even I'm having trouble taking it all in because it just sounds so surreal. Well I gave that special girl (who we'll now call Becky, just for easier reference without giving away her real name) a lift home and she even promised not to tell anyone, which can only confirm that there might be something special going on her side of the relationship.<br />
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Well, something even greater happened. I was at the gym, as I usually am for around 3-4 times a week, keeping my body solid and thick. I had just finished my final set of bench presses when I sat up and had a casual glance around the room just to see if anyone I knew was around. And across the gym, by some kind of miraculous coincidence, I see Becky running along on a treadmill in the cardio section. Astonished, I smiled and held my eye contact with her just to show I was still thinking about her. She gave me a funny look but then ignored me and continued to furiously punish a punching bag while I continued to go finish do a few sets of squats at a different rack.<br />
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Coincidentally enough, we both finished our workouts at the same time, so we were exiting the gym together. I went over to chat with her, but she maybe didn't hear me. It looked like she was in a rush from how she was walking so fast, which was obviously because she (like me) wanted to get home to catch the latest episode of Breaking Bad, which I must say is a fine show. As I took my first few steps outside, I started to realise how chilly it was (it's still winter) but luckily for me I still have my ski mask, which I bought at a health convention where I learnt that a large percentage of heat escapes from your head, left in my bag. I slap that on to keep my head warm and then I notice that Becky is walking home alone, and it's pretty late at night. Now I was raised as a good Christian, so I know that I should protect her so I decide to follow behind her and make sure she doesn't run into any of the bad personalities that have been appearing in the area according to the news.<br />
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I keep a short distance back just so I can get a good view in case people try to sneak around her. I could tell that even she was afraid of the hoodlums in the neighbourhood because she kept looking behind her shoulder and walking faster. We continued for a few blocks until I see a bunch of dark skinned people hanging out in a gang. Now I'm not a racist, naturally I think all people are fundamentally good, but the negros in my community have a reputation on the news for causing trouble, so I decide to hide in the bushes to make sure they don't spot me, and so I'll have the surprise advantage, which I learned from Sun Tzu's Art of War. Whilst in the bushes I accidentally trip over a root and my hand smashes into a glass pane without shattering it, but still letting out a large clanging sound. I hear Becky scream at the top of her lungs. She was in danger! In the space of a single thought, I manage to tell myself that this is it! This is the moment where I can defend her and show her how much of a man I am.<br />
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I leapt furiously out of the bushes and ran to her. I didn't see any of those guys so they probably ran off, scared of a combination of 2 years of body building and Muai Thai (the martial art that Moses used to defeat the Egyptian empire) launching towards them. I grabbed Becky's arm just to make sure she was safe. She turned around and gave me this arousing, fiery and passionate stare into my eyes. She then kneed me in the balls as hard as she could. How did she know I liked it rough?! I picked her up and dropped down on top of her on a grass patch beside the road. She scratched at my face. It was like she knew exactly what I wanted, just like in my dreams. I just couldn't fathom that she honestly wanted to do it right here, out on the street right now. Needless to say, I unzipped my pants and she cried tears of joy the whole time. Unfortunately, I had to get home to at least record Breaking Bad so I had to disappear quickly, but I know I will eventually find the time to come see her again.<br />
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I've been reading books on women and I learned that teaching them to do things is as easy as it was in The Big Bang Theory, where Sheldon rewards the girl character every time she does something good like a dog. So I was thinking back on my reader's advice where one person said to give her a gift that will make her happy. Naturally, I'll pick the best comment here with the best suggestion for a present and post the results when I find out!Kyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7604189046585897837.post-5675485296798050962011-09-04T18:40:00.000-07:002011-11-05T14:22:24.037-07:00A Wonderful WeekendHey guys, how was your weekend? I'd like to sit you down and tell you about mine.<br />
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It was a quiet Friday, recovering from my surgery after having my mind exploded 4 times over attempting to make sense of the paradoxical nature of advice from my previous post, in that I was to disregard advice, by listening to the advice which included disregarding the advice of the internet. This kind of unrelenting cranial destruction has only left me delirious, with enough medication to make Rosie O'Donnel look attractive. Whilst lying there in my constant haze, I began to suddenly rise from my body, walking towards the light. However, something happened in my brain and I figured, hey, I haven't kickboxed God or punched a bear in the mouth just yet, so maybe now wasn't the best time to be leaving this plane of existence.<br />
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In coming back to this earth, I kind of realise I needed to take some of the advice of my bloggers and become a cooler guy, and get to know this chick I've been pandering over. It was time to approach her and say hi. I waited until the next day until she walked by past my workplace.<br />
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"Creep", she responded. I was heartbroken, until I realised I was holding a packaged 13' Titan XXL dildo in my left hand the thickness of a thermos flask. Perhaps I should explain. I work at a sex toy store, and despite all the social stigma, the community of staff is great and there are always great stories to be shared with the interesting customers who are looking to spice up their marriages or experiment with their 114 newly found fetishes they discovered on the internet.<br />
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This little setback was a harsh one, I admit, but then a customer showed me his wallpaper on his iPhone.<br />
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"When life seems to be difficult, God is getting jealous of your progress."<br />
<br />
All those high school dramas and movies made sense now. To get the girl I would have to be persistent. I would have to truly push myself to my limits and maybe even learn a few things about myself. And all this struggle would be worth it because this girl was truly the love of my life.<br />
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I decided to get my act together and look a little nicer than my usual "just woke up" look, which, at the time, was part of how I expressed my casual attitude. I finished my late shift at work, which I usually take to get to know my drunken customers, who are much less nervous about sharing funny sex stories (some which I might ask if I can share on this blog in the future). Since most clothing stores close about 6-7 hours before my workplace shuts down for the night, I had to take my change of clothes from the back room. Naturally, I knew that black is slimming so I went for some nice black jeans, a nice black sweater and since it's winter over here, I grabbed a black beanie that was a bit too big and kept sliding down my face. In my rush to lock up the store, I bumped into the door and cracked my spectacles, leaving me only with the spare in the back room again, which happened to be a nice set of horn rimmed frames. Glasses always make you look smart so I figured this was a surefire way to let her see how intelligent I was.<br />
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Locking up the store, I jumped into my friend's van, which I was borrowing because mine was in the repair shop after a light accident in some busy intersection down the road from the shop. Reversing out of my parking spot, I could hear all the chainsaws and hardware (he's a tradesman) clanking around in the back but I couldn't honestly care less because I was on my way to truly get to know the love of my life.<br />
<br />
Now I hadn't actually asked for her address or phone number but I remember in movies that girls always love surprises cause it's romantic that someone would be so creative and spontaneous, which gives the adrenaline rush they are looking for in their lives. I checked her Facebook account and with a few taps, my iPhone was directing me to her place. I snapped up a few pills from the glove box to deal with my nervousness, and I was smiling so happily, with a grin from ear to ear, which I naturally attributed to my excitement for this girl.<br />
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I parked my van in her driveway and began to look around to see if she's home. And then I see her in her living room, watching TV. It took me a while to muster the courage to do anything, I was in shock and awe of her beauty, with my extraordinary grin plastered on my face.<br />
<br />
But I'm glad I did do this. We had the best weekend. We went fishing, we talked about our favourite music, listened to and shared some great tunes, watched a few of our favourite movies together, walked along the beach, discussed religious beliefs, ate the best meals available in our area, went bowling, had a few drinks and played darts, everything you could possibly imagine. It was amazing.<br />
<br />
I just wish I wasn't so insecure and paranoid about losing her. Maybe I should untie her.Kyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7604189046585897837.post-76904780552042141962011-08-26T04:22:00.001-07:002011-11-05T14:22:53.142-07:00Found a new band!T'was a late night of reflection and aimlessly surfing Youtube for some funny videos when I stumbled across For A Minor Reflection. It really reminds me of Explosions in the Sky, which happens to be one of my favourite Post Rock bands to date. Recently my musical tastes have drifted into the world of electronic music, from electro house, to IDM, and the peaceful sounds of AMR seem to whisk me back into my easy listening days.<br />
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<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XVoY2dkozFc">Check them out!</a><br />
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What do you think? Any other names you can throw at me? I don't even care if it's of a particular genre, if it's good, it's good.Kyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7604189046585897837.post-26822980086020881972011-08-24T04:43:00.000-07:002011-11-05T14:23:23.280-07:00Looking for that special someone.So what do you do when you find that special someone who seems to be impossibly cute and perfect to you? It seems like everything in my brain has just jumped out the window, which is probably the only reason I turn to the internet for advice. Because yeah, the internet is certainly a good place to find life advice right?Kyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7604189046585897837.post-26305283153164114702011-08-21T16:12:00.000-07:002011-11-05T14:23:59.199-07:00A Change Of HeartAs I usually find myself awake at strange hours of the day, I seem to be in a very reflective mood at night, listening to peaceful, ambient songs and staring into stars, like a poet, except with an income. Instead of funny things, maybe I might find some time in my life to speak my mind, to let go of the thoughts circling my head.Kyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7604189046585897837.post-89685130497424059282011-08-19T12:19:00.000-07:002011-11-05T14:24:20.308-07:00Sup!My first blog post! Gonna just drop some funny stuff from wherever I may find it, whether from my own mind or from the darkest of alleys around the internet.Kyle Mainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15716019893656961614noreply@blogger.com3