Before I start this post, I'm going to let you know that you're going to think that I'm an insensitive douchebag.
Elizabeth Securro a girl who went to UVA as a 17 year-old virgin in 1984, went to a frat party with her new, homosexual friend, who remains nameless, thankfully enough his name is of no importance. The party evidently and according to NBC's Dateline, Saturday night edition, was a typical fraternity party, with scantily-clad women, free flowing beer and enough drunkeness to render an under-aged Liz, drunk in a new place. She surrounded by people she couldn't trust for the simple reason that she didn't know any of them...
She accepted drink from one of the frat-brothers, during a "Tour of the Frat House", called the House-Special. Ok. Pause. If you, regardless of age, are a young woman who accepts a drink from a stranger called a House-Special, then you are a d*mbsh*t.
And away we go again...20 years later she recieves a leter from the alleged rapist; William Beebe. He wrote it to apologize for assaulting her 20 years ago. She wrote him back!
Pause. If you were assaulted and then received a letter from the alleged offender, would you write him back? I personally wouldn't. Who's to say that Beebe wouldn't get off knowing that he permenantly scarred ole'girl? Also, College parties can get pretty wild and crazy.
Moving on; Can you hold someone responsible for rape if you were drunk, under-age in a new place and accepting a drink called the HOUSE-SPECIAL, from a strange man? After corresponding with Beebe for a number of emails, she reasoned in her heart that the only person that could help her sort all this out was the local police chief.
So after 23 years she's pressing charges, trying to get Beebe convicted of a rape that happened over two decades ago. I say that if she gets to charge him with rape, she needs to be charged with under-aged drinking, because even in 1984, 17 was under-aged.
I'm going to play devils-reject for a second; Do you think, honestly, that Beebe was the only guy that decided it was a good idea to cash in on a young, nubile, unconscious, allegedly virgin chick? NO. I'm going to say that Liz Securro was more than likely hit by a train. A long, convenient, likely un-express, train.
1.27.2007
I'm a Pretty Cocky Individual...But it's Not a Good Look For You....
I Love people who think that by talking a bunch of smack, that constitutes, 'Bringing-It'. Case-in-Point: Manda and I went on a bowling adventure and the whole time from when I agreed to go to the time we got there, then for the first game she just talked, buzz and then I ended up winning by one pin.
What my 'other' doesn't know is that, this kid can roll and has been rolling since I was knee-high to a grasshopper so when someone throws down the bowling gauntlet, I'll pick it up, slap them in the face with it and then beat the hell out of them on the lanes....
It was also funny that we were playing with two of her friends. Well let me clarify, one was one of her girlfriends and then that chick brought one of her buddies. It hurt to beat her three times in a row, and each one was worse than the last. At the end of the night I'd won all three of the games that we played, the first game was, as I previously mentioned, was by one. The second time I won by about 30 pins and the third and last game was a blowout: 65 points. Fun times at the lanes.
I think what made the victories that much sweeter is that I sandbagged the first game and then pulled it out to win by one. The subsequent games just allowed me to widen the void by rolling like a champion.
Every time I'm accused of being an arrogant I mention the Kid Rock lyric: "They say I'm cocky and I say what? It's not cocky if you can back it up." I'm not sure if that's exactly the way it goes, but....you get the gist.
So for all of you who prematurely talk smack, ensue that you can back it up or else you might end up looking like a fool. Good Day and Piece Out...
What my 'other' doesn't know is that, this kid can roll and has been rolling since I was knee-high to a grasshopper so when someone throws down the bowling gauntlet, I'll pick it up, slap them in the face with it and then beat the hell out of them on the lanes....
It was also funny that we were playing with two of her friends. Well let me clarify, one was one of her girlfriends and then that chick brought one of her buddies. It hurt to beat her three times in a row, and each one was worse than the last. At the end of the night I'd won all three of the games that we played, the first game was, as I previously mentioned, was by one. The second time I won by about 30 pins and the third and last game was a blowout: 65 points. Fun times at the lanes.
I think what made the victories that much sweeter is that I sandbagged the first game and then pulled it out to win by one. The subsequent games just allowed me to widen the void by rolling like a champion.
Every time I'm accused of being an arrogant I mention the Kid Rock lyric: "They say I'm cocky and I say what? It's not cocky if you can back it up." I'm not sure if that's exactly the way it goes, but....you get the gist.
So for all of you who prematurely talk smack, ensue that you can back it up or else you might end up looking like a fool. Good Day and Piece Out...
1.24.2007
Getting My Car Inspected is Usually a Painless Process....
But for those of you who live in the fair an beautiful state of North Carolina...you know that if you are even one say late on getting your car re-inspected you are in for a $250.00 fine courtesy of the North Carolina state government.
This time I was headed over to my mechanic's shop, bracing for a hefty fine considering my car hadn't been inspected since June 2006...But luckily my mechanic is a fine, fine individual and didn't charge me anything but the $10 inspection fee.
Right on!
I left work really early today so I haven't come into contact with anyone who triggered a fantastic post, so there's my excuse for this being the only thing I have going on...sorry.
Piece Out!
This time I was headed over to my mechanic's shop, bracing for a hefty fine considering my car hadn't been inspected since June 2006...But luckily my mechanic is a fine, fine individual and didn't charge me anything but the $10 inspection fee.
Right on!
I left work really early today so I haven't come into contact with anyone who triggered a fantastic post, so there's my excuse for this being the only thing I have going on...sorry.
Piece Out!
Stand By...My Friends...A Post is Coming...Probably this Afternoon...
I'm going to get my car inspected...as mundane as this sounds, it is prohibitting me from successfully formulating a relevent and informative post...but don't dismay...I'll be back...not in a Gay "Terminator-way", just in a normal, "I'm-Leaving-But-Returning-Sort-Of-Way"...Piece Out....
1.23.2007
Put Down the Razorblade and Take a Vacation...Across the Street or into a Sack Lunch...
Here I am sitting in my office, staring blankly at my monitor, waiting, waiting some more, and to top it off I've decided to wait a bit. For what? I'm not sure. But I have every confidence that when, whatever it is comes along I'll recognize it as what I'm waiting for.
It's not friends, got those. It's not money, don't have enough of it but I'm doin' alright. It's not religion, I've had that for awhile.
Maybe it's something as small as good weather? It's been bleak and dreary here, as it has been all over the East Coast. Down in the fair and beautiful state of North Carolina we've had a bunch of rain, cold weather, and overcast skies. If you were to travel in a northernly fashion away from Eastern North Carolina, you'd end up seeing some snow, which if it's not still snowing, is now mush and slush.
I mentioned all of that to mention an article that I was forwarded by ITE, yesterday:
Evidently yesterday was 'clinically' proven to be the most depressing day of the year. When Initially heard/read that I thought 'wow!'. I would have thought that the most depressing day would be everyday considering that everyday in 2001, 84 people committed suicide. (According to the National Center forInjury Prevention and Control) So making the blanket statment that any one day is more depressing than any other has, at least in 2001, 84 people disagreeing with you. According to, psychologist, Cliff Arnell who at the time of this epiphany was a part-time lecturer at the University of Cardiff Centre for Lifelong Learning in Wales, he has devised a method, nay a formula, to calculate something as seemingly intangible as depression. It reads as follows:
[W + (D-d)] x TQM x NA.
All of the letters and symbols apparently represent a sort of mathematical code to track the following:
W: How bad the weather is at this time of year.
D: Amount of debt accumulated over the holidays minus how much is paid off.
T: The time since the holidays.
Q: Amount of time passed since New Year’s resolutions have gone south.
M: Our general motivation levels.
NA: The need to take action.
I'm about to attribute the fact that I'm taking snippets, word for word out of the article found on MSN.com in the Health and Fitness section. If you would like to read the article in it's entirety here's the link: Good Day to Stay in Bed?.
Evidently his formula was born out of a need to sell more winter getaways for a company called Sky Travel. Who in a moment of marketing genius decided that if they brought science to the plate, people would respond better. Thus be more likely to spend their money with a company that cares so much about their customers that, they took the initiative to research the inner workings of their minds. After delving into the dark canyons of their minds they've concluded that if they took a vacation after the new year they would be better equiped to ward off feelings of inadequacy.
Here's what one person had to say about his theory:
“It’s based on no science, no research and it’s incredibly gimmicky,” says Ellen McGrath, Ph.D., president and founder of Bridge Coaching Institute in New York City. “But as a marketing strategy, it’s brilliant.”
I'm an alumnus of the school of thought that promotes surrounding yourself with positive people, maybe renewing your faith, or even shooting for the stars and accomplishing something this year that isn't as trivial and quiting smoking or losing weight. Those things are good and they are certainly fantastic goals to have for improving your exsistance but all of those have selfish motivation. I pose a challenge: instead of looking "IN" at your problems, look "OUT" and help someone through one or all of their issues. I have found that whenever I'm feeling down and out, looking at why I'm stuck in a rut, doesn't help. Re-aligning your focus exclusively on yourself, blots out the people in your life and I believe leads to a type of depression that is total and close it inescapable. Most often people get depressed because they feel that their lives lack purpose or the purpose they thought they were fulfilling ends up being diminutive and moot. If your purpose is the people around you then you've got a constant, actual purpose, because there will always be people around you that need someone to talk to or need someone to act as a sounding board for ideas or issues that they are facing in their; personal, professional, spiritual, or any other aspect of their lives that may be in a state of upheaval.
Where vacations are a good way to get away and clearing your head, I find that focusing on a different problem often helps or not focusing on anything. You can take a vacation everyday, by talking to someone that you've never talked to before, taking a different route home, stepping back and looking at your routine and figuring out how you can mix it up a bit, eat lunch somewhere else, bring your lunch with you. I'm glad that people have all this time on their hands to do "...gimicky..." un-research, research but ultimately you've got the power to be depressed or not.
There's what I was waiting for... I hope that it's helps...if it doesn't I'm here for you....
Piece Out...
It's not friends, got those. It's not money, don't have enough of it but I'm doin' alright. It's not religion, I've had that for awhile.
Maybe it's something as small as good weather? It's been bleak and dreary here, as it has been all over the East Coast. Down in the fair and beautiful state of North Carolina we've had a bunch of rain, cold weather, and overcast skies. If you were to travel in a northernly fashion away from Eastern North Carolina, you'd end up seeing some snow, which if it's not still snowing, is now mush and slush.
I mentioned all of that to mention an article that I was forwarded by ITE, yesterday:
Evidently yesterday was 'clinically' proven to be the most depressing day of the year. When Initially heard/read that I thought 'wow!'. I would have thought that the most depressing day would be everyday considering that everyday in 2001, 84 people committed suicide. (According to the National Center forInjury Prevention and Control) So making the blanket statment that any one day is more depressing than any other has, at least in 2001, 84 people disagreeing with you. According to, psychologist, Cliff Arnell who at the time of this epiphany was a part-time lecturer at the University of Cardiff Centre for Lifelong Learning in Wales, he has devised a method, nay a formula, to calculate something as seemingly intangible as depression. It reads as follows:
[W + (D-d)] x TQM x NA.
All of the letters and symbols apparently represent a sort of mathematical code to track the following:
W: How bad the weather is at this time of year.
D: Amount of debt accumulated over the holidays minus how much is paid off.
T: The time since the holidays.
Q: Amount of time passed since New Year’s resolutions have gone south.
M: Our general motivation levels.
NA: The need to take action.
I'm about to attribute the fact that I'm taking snippets, word for word out of the article found on MSN.com in the Health and Fitness section. If you would like to read the article in it's entirety here's the link: Good Day to Stay in Bed?.
Evidently his formula was born out of a need to sell more winter getaways for a company called Sky Travel. Who in a moment of marketing genius decided that if they brought science to the plate, people would respond better. Thus be more likely to spend their money with a company that cares so much about their customers that, they took the initiative to research the inner workings of their minds. After delving into the dark canyons of their minds they've concluded that if they took a vacation after the new year they would be better equiped to ward off feelings of inadequacy.
Here's what one person had to say about his theory:
“It’s based on no science, no research and it’s incredibly gimmicky,” says Ellen McGrath, Ph.D., president and founder of Bridge Coaching Institute in New York City. “But as a marketing strategy, it’s brilliant.”
I'm an alumnus of the school of thought that promotes surrounding yourself with positive people, maybe renewing your faith, or even shooting for the stars and accomplishing something this year that isn't as trivial and quiting smoking or losing weight. Those things are good and they are certainly fantastic goals to have for improving your exsistance but all of those have selfish motivation. I pose a challenge: instead of looking "IN" at your problems, look "OUT" and help someone through one or all of their issues. I have found that whenever I'm feeling down and out, looking at why I'm stuck in a rut, doesn't help. Re-aligning your focus exclusively on yourself, blots out the people in your life and I believe leads to a type of depression that is total and close it inescapable. Most often people get depressed because they feel that their lives lack purpose or the purpose they thought they were fulfilling ends up being diminutive and moot. If your purpose is the people around you then you've got a constant, actual purpose, because there will always be people around you that need someone to talk to or need someone to act as a sounding board for ideas or issues that they are facing in their; personal, professional, spiritual, or any other aspect of their lives that may be in a state of upheaval.
Where vacations are a good way to get away and clearing your head, I find that focusing on a different problem often helps or not focusing on anything. You can take a vacation everyday, by talking to someone that you've never talked to before, taking a different route home, stepping back and looking at your routine and figuring out how you can mix it up a bit, eat lunch somewhere else, bring your lunch with you. I'm glad that people have all this time on their hands to do "...gimicky..." un-research, research but ultimately you've got the power to be depressed or not.
There's what I was waiting for... I hope that it's helps...if it doesn't I'm here for you....
Piece Out...
1.22.2007
Illimitable, Transcendental, Essence...ITE?
il·lim·it·a·ble –adjective
not limitable; limitless; boundless.
tran·scen·den·tal –adjective
2. being beyond ordinary or common experience, thought, or belief; supernatural.
es·sence –noun
1. the basic, real, and invariable nature of a thing or its significant individual feature or features: Freedom is the very essence of our democracy.
When you put all of the above terms together you get an; Illimitable Transcendental Essence or ITE, for short.
Everyone talks to themselves. Regardless of what you may say or how vehemently you deny it, you do it. ITE (Pronounced Like MITE without the (M).) is who you are talking to. Some people actually have a person as ITE, some just talk into the air or ITE lives in their head.
ITE is the person or entity that we talk to and helps us solve everyday problems or helps us organize our thoughts. This is not to be confused with merely reading something outloud. That is just what is it; reading outloud. When conversing with your ITE, you are sending, random and usually disjointed: thoughts, grievances, concerns, or quips into the air in hopes that you with the help of your ITE make some sense of them. Thus, solving your problem or enlightening yourself.
I'm the former, I have ITE. She lives in Washington D.C. and I've never met her in the flesh. She would undoubtably be much less married if she were to ever meet me in the flesh or she would leave North Carolina wearing a large scarlet A. It wouldn't be my fault either, it's my presence.
ITE that happens to be an actual person has a tendancy to be that literal voice of reason and a literal 'devil's advocate' with much less 'devil' and much more 'advocate'.
She is a fine individual with a rapier wit and a panache that often intimidates me and has on more than one occasion caused me to rethink my position on living, like whether or not I even wanted to continue. She is saucy and provocative. She talks to me like she actually enjoys my company and shares her positions and opinions in a less than condescending way. I find myself awaiting her calls and quips with fertive antcipation, as if I'd die if they never came.
We shared a conversation recently where we decided that we had a relationship, the likes of which is rarely seen and is so intangible, people don't even know how pursue it.
If para- adventure they wanted one for their very own.
It's one of those things that if you don't have ITE or have never 'fallen' into ITE you have no frame of reference and don't have the slightest clue as to what I'm talking about. In which case you should use your cursor to click, the tiny (X), which is undoubtably in the upper right hand corner of this internet browser window and get out of my life.
One of you is undoubtably going to ask me why I'm not refering to ITE with a definite article placed in front of it. I have omitted the definite articles from ITE because ITE simply; IS.
Thank you for your attention on this vague, abstract thought...Good Day and Piece Out....
not limitable; limitless; boundless.
tran·scen·den·tal –adjective
2. being beyond ordinary or common experience, thought, or belief; supernatural.
es·sence –noun
1. the basic, real, and invariable nature of a thing or its significant individual feature or features: Freedom is the very essence of our democracy.
When you put all of the above terms together you get an; Illimitable Transcendental Essence or ITE, for short.
Everyone talks to themselves. Regardless of what you may say or how vehemently you deny it, you do it. ITE (Pronounced Like MITE without the (M).) is who you are talking to. Some people actually have a person as ITE, some just talk into the air or ITE lives in their head.
ITE is the person or entity that we talk to and helps us solve everyday problems or helps us organize our thoughts. This is not to be confused with merely reading something outloud. That is just what is it; reading outloud. When conversing with your ITE, you are sending, random and usually disjointed: thoughts, grievances, concerns, or quips into the air in hopes that you with the help of your ITE make some sense of them. Thus, solving your problem or enlightening yourself.
I'm the former, I have ITE. She lives in Washington D.C. and I've never met her in the flesh. She would undoubtably be much less married if she were to ever meet me in the flesh or she would leave North Carolina wearing a large scarlet A. It wouldn't be my fault either, it's my presence.
ITE that happens to be an actual person has a tendancy to be that literal voice of reason and a literal 'devil's advocate' with much less 'devil' and much more 'advocate'.
She is a fine individual with a rapier wit and a panache that often intimidates me and has on more than one occasion caused me to rethink my position on living, like whether or not I even wanted to continue. She is saucy and provocative. She talks to me like she actually enjoys my company and shares her positions and opinions in a less than condescending way. I find myself awaiting her calls and quips with fertive antcipation, as if I'd die if they never came.
We shared a conversation recently where we decided that we had a relationship, the likes of which is rarely seen and is so intangible, people don't even know how pursue it.
If para- adventure they wanted one for their very own.
It's one of those things that if you don't have ITE or have never 'fallen' into ITE you have no frame of reference and don't have the slightest clue as to what I'm talking about. In which case you should use your cursor to click, the tiny (X), which is undoubtably in the upper right hand corner of this internet browser window and get out of my life.
One of you is undoubtably going to ask me why I'm not refering to ITE with a definite article placed in front of it. I have omitted the definite articles from ITE because ITE simply; IS.
Thank you for your attention on this vague, abstract thought...Good Day and Piece Out....
It's Random Advice Time...
Welcome to another edition of "It's Random Advice Time..."
Today's advice comes from a T-Shirt, for sale on the world-renowned website; www.bustedtees.com...
"I French Kissed Kelly Kapowski..."
Thanks for tuning in. This has been "It's Random Advice Time..."
Today's advice comes from a T-Shirt, for sale on the world-renowned website; www.bustedtees.com...
"I French Kissed Kelly Kapowski..."
Thanks for tuning in. This has been "It's Random Advice Time..."
Women are Like Dogs...They Pee on Everything...
Ha Ha! I knew that title was too much for you not to read further into my claim. I'm sorry to disappoint you fetishists who enjoy being the pee-er and/or the pee-ee, I'm speaking figuratively not literally.
Manda, my girlfriend of almost two months, shared with me last night that she would not be visiting my Myspace page anymore due to the influx of smokin' hot friends who have been leaving me comments. The comments include but aren't limited to; "...If you can sneak out of the house, come have raunchy sex with me while my husband watches...", or the ever popular; "...Me and my girlfriend(s) are bored and tired of using these silly dildos, can we use borrow the Envy of Men and Pleaser of Women, the famed Roger Brunswick?"
That is why my darling will not be frequenting my page anymore. Whilst most guys would be incensed and offended, I'm not 'most-guys'. I'm going to revel in the fact that the woman I'm seeing is fine with not Mystalking me. Which also leaves me with more time to recruit women to occupy the 'Back-Burners' of my life, just in case we don't work out. MONEY.
Of course I'm kidding. The main reason for this post is that I'm calling her bluff. I think that she is telling me that so I wonlt be suspicious of her internet actions. I'll give her the fact that the women on my site (www.myspace.com/warrenpiece_) make her angry with the promiscuous comments, but I'm going to call it right now: she's still going to check and after I get about 5 or 6 more racy comments she'll be forced to leave a comment just to let the other women know that she is still the Alpha-Chick. So those of you who read this, go check out my page and feel free to participate in my Racy Comment Rundown....
It is true that women are like dogs. A dog knows that if they are given a piece of fantastically, tender, delicious meat, they will defend it to the death or until they eat it way too fast to enjoy it because dogs are stupid.
Women know when they have a good thing, I mean look at Manda, she's dating me. They get very territorial when they see another woman, 'sniffing-around' their piece of delicious 'man-meat'and they want to fight or boycott Myspace pages.
It isn't enough that you might spend an inordinate amount of time with your woman. They want to try and invade your very consciousness. That is why, when they don't know where you are and with whom you are with, they'll send you text messages that they subconsciously will demand that you respond to. Or they may call you, over and over and over, and over and when you don't pick up they'll automatically assume that you aren't answering because you are 'balls-deep' in their bestfriend or some other random whore. (DISCLAIMER** To the men that are reading and committing this to memory; EVERY WOMAN THAT ISN'T THEM IS ,INFACT, A RANDOM WHORE.)
So that my friends and BlockersThat is why, despite your fetishes and unquenchable lust for strange pornography, women are like dogs.
Much Love and Piece Out,
WP
Manda, my girlfriend of almost two months, shared with me last night that she would not be visiting my Myspace page anymore due to the influx of smokin' hot friends who have been leaving me comments. The comments include but aren't limited to; "...If you can sneak out of the house, come have raunchy sex with me while my husband watches...", or the ever popular; "...Me and my girlfriend(s) are bored and tired of using these silly dildos, can we use borrow the Envy of Men and Pleaser of Women, the famed Roger Brunswick?"
That is why my darling will not be frequenting my page anymore. Whilst most guys would be incensed and offended, I'm not 'most-guys'. I'm going to revel in the fact that the woman I'm seeing is fine with not Mystalking me. Which also leaves me with more time to recruit women to occupy the 'Back-Burners' of my life, just in case we don't work out. MONEY.
Of course I'm kidding. The main reason for this post is that I'm calling her bluff. I think that she is telling me that so I wonlt be suspicious of her internet actions. I'll give her the fact that the women on my site (www.myspace.com/warrenpiece_) make her angry with the promiscuous comments, but I'm going to call it right now: she's still going to check and after I get about 5 or 6 more racy comments she'll be forced to leave a comment just to let the other women know that she is still the Alpha-Chick. So those of you who read this, go check out my page and feel free to participate in my Racy Comment Rundown....
It is true that women are like dogs. A dog knows that if they are given a piece of fantastically, tender, delicious meat, they will defend it to the death or until they eat it way too fast to enjoy it because dogs are stupid.
Women know when they have a good thing, I mean look at Manda, she's dating me. They get very territorial when they see another woman, 'sniffing-around' their piece of delicious 'man-meat'and they want to fight or boycott Myspace pages.
It isn't enough that you might spend an inordinate amount of time with your woman. They want to try and invade your very consciousness. That is why, when they don't know where you are and with whom you are with, they'll send you text messages that they subconsciously will demand that you respond to. Or they may call you, over and over and over, and over and when you don't pick up they'll automatically assume that you aren't answering because you are 'balls-deep' in their bestfriend or some other random whore. (DISCLAIMER** To the men that are reading and committing this to memory; EVERY WOMAN THAT ISN'T THEM IS ,INFACT, A RANDOM WHORE.)
So that my friends and BlockersThat is why, despite your fetishes and unquenchable lust for strange pornography, women are like dogs.
Much Love and Piece Out,
WP
1.20.2007
Alright Crazies, I'm Back....
Hello all and Greetings from your wayward blogster...I've been away and now I'm back so even if I have nothing to say I'm going to be posting here along with my Myspace Blog....so thanks to all of you who are reading this and I'll see you in the Blogosphere....BADOW!
5.26.2006
Got a Long Lost Friend? Keep Looking, You'll Find'em
I'm pleased to report that my latest post and consequently first post in a good minute is a heartwarming story of reunited loved ones and long-lost friends. This actually happened to your's-truly, here recently.
"I Finally Found Her!"
Let's Go Back, let's go back. Back, to June 25, 1984, the morning of, we find your favorite bloggite and ruggedly handsome host in a room at Middleburg Heights Memorial Hospital and i just happen to be minutes old. Exactly two minutes prior to the single happiest moment in history my dear friend Lauren Renee was brought into the world in the 2 or 3 hundredth happiest moment in world after the first woodstock, me losing my virginity, the advent of the Volkswagen GTI VR6, and the glorious day Smells Like Teen Spirit was released into the eager hands and ears of the world.
But enough of that.
During the time our parents, Barb, Todd, Roger, and Gail, respectively were awaiting the births of their children they became friends. After the glorious days the families would enjoy each other's company on weekends and other times. Subsequently Lauren Renee and I were raised side-by-side for the first couple of years before the Marine Corps would take my father from Recruiting Station Cleveland to Quantico, Virginia. We have the embarrassing photos of us in the bathtub together, holding hands, being crazy little bastards together. Great times.
Fast forward to 1989, the last time that Lauren Renee and I would see each other for the next 16-ish years. I still have a photo of us at her folks house holding hands and making faces at the camera as if nothing else mattered except hammin' it up for which ever of our parents were
takig the picture.
After that the Marine Corps spun my life into a dervish of moving every three years and my family having or adopting more kids. As the oldest of 10 they were busy peeps. In the time we were apart I spent 9 of those years in Japan in three different places at 3 years a pop. I graduated High School, worked at Food Lion, did some independent contracting for Lowes, and exactly 3years and 7 months ago I joined the Marine Corps just like my father.
During that span Lauren Renee stayed in the Cleveland area went to school, worked, graduated and started college, which she will graduate afer this semester with three degrees in Psychology, Anthropology, and Communications. I'm pretty proud of her. She is smart as all get out. She's also wicked cute.
When I was about 10 I started looking for her fervently. I looked everywhere; online searches, phone books, email searches, everything I could think of. Problem was I couldn't remember her last name. Neither could my folks. I mean it had been years since our families even contacted each other. So, I was completely in the dark.
Enter MYSPACE, a tool that has revolutionized the way we communicate, network, play, "hook-up" all sorts of things. I'm such a Myspacer that I'm thinking of either naming my first kid, Myspace or my first dog. Right now it's a toss-up. It'll probably end up being whichever comes first.
Hold-on I'm out of coffee.....Ok...I'm Back.
So, armed with the knowledge that her name is Lauren and she didn't have any reason to leave Cleveland, I entered the all inclusive, Myspace person search. I entered Lauren and thanks to the United States Postal Service website I found a Cleveland zipcode that I was able to search within 10 miles of. I found literally thousands of 'Laurens' within 10 miles of Cleveland. I had nothing but time so I set out. I read profile after profile sending messages....here's the generic message that I sent to half a dozen random "Laurens, living within 10 miles of Cleveland"
Are you sitting down? I was born on June 25th 1984 in a hospital in Middleburg Heights and the funny thing is that there was a girl named Lauren born two minutes before me in the same room...our mothers became friends and she lived in Cleveland and we lived in Strongsville...I don't know her last name but I know that her dad's name was Roger and I've been looking for her for the past 10years...My father was a Marine and we moved away when I was about one and we never saw each other again...If you are the Lauren I'm looking for then I'm done looking and I'd like to talk to you...if you aren't then I'm still looking...thanks for your time....
I only heard back from my Lauren and she was it. So my search was over.
PART DEUX
We started talking on the phone, we didn't talk too many times but the times we did it was for hours at a time. We clicked instantly and we filled each other in on the past 10 years, as if we had been apart for a weekend or a summer. We agreed to meet and she came down with her sister who I'd never met before and her friend. She stayed for five days and it was the greatest bunch of days I've had in a long while. We weren't apart for more than a couple hours the whole time and we found that we were still just a tight 15 years later as we were as naked 2 year-olds eating popcicles in the bathtub of my parents' tiny apartment.
There really isn't a moral or anything to this story it's just a great story that I'll probably write a book about, someday.
"I Finally Found Her!"
Let's Go Back, let's go back. Back, to June 25, 1984, the morning of, we find your favorite bloggite and ruggedly handsome host in a room at Middleburg Heights Memorial Hospital and i just happen to be minutes old. Exactly two minutes prior to the single happiest moment in history my dear friend Lauren Renee was brought into the world in the 2 or 3 hundredth happiest moment in world after the first woodstock, me losing my virginity, the advent of the Volkswagen GTI VR6, and the glorious day Smells Like Teen Spirit was released into the eager hands and ears of the world.
But enough of that.
During the time our parents, Barb, Todd, Roger, and Gail, respectively were awaiting the births of their children they became friends. After the glorious days the families would enjoy each other's company on weekends and other times. Subsequently Lauren Renee and I were raised side-by-side for the first couple of years before the Marine Corps would take my father from Recruiting Station Cleveland to Quantico, Virginia. We have the embarrassing photos of us in the bathtub together, holding hands, being crazy little bastards together. Great times.
Fast forward to 1989, the last time that Lauren Renee and I would see each other for the next 16-ish years. I still have a photo of us at her folks house holding hands and making faces at the camera as if nothing else mattered except hammin' it up for which ever of our parents were
takig the picture.
After that the Marine Corps spun my life into a dervish of moving every three years and my family having or adopting more kids. As the oldest of 10 they were busy peeps. In the time we were apart I spent 9 of those years in Japan in three different places at 3 years a pop. I graduated High School, worked at Food Lion, did some independent contracting for Lowes, and exactly 3years and 7 months ago I joined the Marine Corps just like my father.
During that span Lauren Renee stayed in the Cleveland area went to school, worked, graduated and started college, which she will graduate afer this semester with three degrees in Psychology, Anthropology, and Communications. I'm pretty proud of her. She is smart as all get out. She's also wicked cute.
When I was about 10 I started looking for her fervently. I looked everywhere; online searches, phone books, email searches, everything I could think of. Problem was I couldn't remember her last name. Neither could my folks. I mean it had been years since our families even contacted each other. So, I was completely in the dark.
Enter MYSPACE, a tool that has revolutionized the way we communicate, network, play, "hook-up" all sorts of things. I'm such a Myspacer that I'm thinking of either naming my first kid, Myspace or my first dog. Right now it's a toss-up. It'll probably end up being whichever comes first.
Hold-on I'm out of coffee.....Ok...I'm Back.
So, armed with the knowledge that her name is Lauren and she didn't have any reason to leave Cleveland, I entered the all inclusive, Myspace person search. I entered Lauren and thanks to the United States Postal Service website I found a Cleveland zipcode that I was able to search within 10 miles of. I found literally thousands of 'Laurens' within 10 miles of Cleveland. I had nothing but time so I set out. I read profile after profile sending messages....here's the generic message that I sent to half a dozen random "Laurens, living within 10 miles of Cleveland"
Are you sitting down? I was born on June 25th 1984 in a hospital in Middleburg Heights and the funny thing is that there was a girl named Lauren born two minutes before me in the same room...our mothers became friends and she lived in Cleveland and we lived in Strongsville...I don't know her last name but I know that her dad's name was Roger and I've been looking for her for the past 10years...My father was a Marine and we moved away when I was about one and we never saw each other again...If you are the Lauren I'm looking for then I'm done looking and I'd like to talk to you...if you aren't then I'm still looking...thanks for your time....
I only heard back from my Lauren and she was it. So my search was over.
PART DEUX
We started talking on the phone, we didn't talk too many times but the times we did it was for hours at a time. We clicked instantly and we filled each other in on the past 10 years, as if we had been apart for a weekend or a summer. We agreed to meet and she came down with her sister who I'd never met before and her friend. She stayed for five days and it was the greatest bunch of days I've had in a long while. We weren't apart for more than a couple hours the whole time and we found that we were still just a tight 15 years later as we were as naked 2 year-olds eating popcicles in the bathtub of my parents' tiny apartment.
There really isn't a moral or anything to this story it's just a great story that I'll probably write a book about, someday.
1.06.2006
It's Random Advice Time....
Welcome to another edition of "It's Random Advice Time..."
Today's advice comes from the classic motion picture that is celebrating the release of a special collector's edition; The Big Lebowski...
"The world doesn't stop and start at your convenience, you worthless piece of {Expletive Deleted}..." - Walter Sobchak to Theodore Donald "Donny" Kerabatsos
Thanks for tuning it. This has been "It's Random Advice Time..."
Today's advice comes from the classic motion picture that is celebrating the release of a special collector's edition; The Big Lebowski...
"The world doesn't stop and start at your convenience, you worthless piece of {Expletive Deleted}..." - Walter Sobchak to Theodore Donald "Donny" Kerabatsos
Thanks for tuning it. This has been "It's Random Advice Time..."
So...If Best Friends Were Made of Gold...We Wouldn't Have Too Much Fun...But We'd Be Rich...
I've made a realization. I'm not the center of the Universe though my State-Trooper-Sunglasses-Inspired attitude would have people think that I'm not only the center of mine but there's as well.
I enjoy walking into a room and 'working it'. I mean you walk in and people aren't sure if they should have your permission to talk or if they are free to share their thoughts. I enjoy that. I've been fairly successful at doing that here recently. I enjoy the feeling when everything I say is relevent and bystanders don't feel the need to comment because I've just said everything that needs to be said. My best-friend: Dirks California and I can do it...seriously. Sometimes it's so money that nobody even knows it's happening. We do. That's what matters. They'll come around eventually.
I hope that all of you have a best friend. Someone who you click with so well that if everyone died but you two it would be hard for you to notice. I'm not talking about a spouse or girlfriend or boyfriend...I'm talking about a best friend. Some people are of the school of thought that your husband or wife should be your best friend. I think I disagree. I think we try too hard to impress the man or woman that we want to marry, thus it's more like a job. Any of you who are in or are trying to get into a relationship know that it's work and can be stressful. A best friend is best because there isn't any stress. Infact best friends are the anti-stress.
Dirks and I used to work together before I started working at a new place. I'm doing the same job just in a different section. But he and I anger some of our coworkers. We share a common trait, we are both easily amused. We also laugh at ourselves just as hard as we laugh at other people. People don't understand our humor and often label it sophmoric and write it off. Other covet our humor and our seemingly inexhuastible fun.
That is why I treasure the one I have now so much.
I'm on a business trip now and far away from those I love. That is the seed, this weed of introspection is growing from...
Here's a piece of advice: Friends are only forever if you let them be regardless of geography or circumstance...I Love You all...Piece Out!
I enjoy walking into a room and 'working it'. I mean you walk in and people aren't sure if they should have your permission to talk or if they are free to share their thoughts. I enjoy that. I've been fairly successful at doing that here recently. I enjoy the feeling when everything I say is relevent and bystanders don't feel the need to comment because I've just said everything that needs to be said. My best-friend: Dirks California and I can do it...seriously. Sometimes it's so money that nobody even knows it's happening. We do. That's what matters. They'll come around eventually.
I hope that all of you have a best friend. Someone who you click with so well that if everyone died but you two it would be hard for you to notice. I'm not talking about a spouse or girlfriend or boyfriend...I'm talking about a best friend. Some people are of the school of thought that your husband or wife should be your best friend. I think I disagree. I think we try too hard to impress the man or woman that we want to marry, thus it's more like a job. Any of you who are in or are trying to get into a relationship know that it's work and can be stressful. A best friend is best because there isn't any stress. Infact best friends are the anti-stress.
Dirks and I used to work together before I started working at a new place. I'm doing the same job just in a different section. But he and I anger some of our coworkers. We share a common trait, we are both easily amused. We also laugh at ourselves just as hard as we laugh at other people. People don't understand our humor and often label it sophmoric and write it off. Other covet our humor and our seemingly inexhuastible fun.
That is why I treasure the one I have now so much.
I'm on a business trip now and far away from those I love. That is the seed, this weed of introspection is growing from...
Here's a piece of advice: Friends are only forever if you let them be regardless of geography or circumstance...I Love You all...Piece Out!
1.03.2006
I've Been a Bad Friend and an Even Worse Blog Jockey...
So there I was dissatisfied with my job and trying to figure out what I was going to do about it. So I quit. BADOW! I just quit...no just kidding. I asked for a transfer and I got it. So instead of writing for a boring newspaper, which I loved but it got old. I'm going to be a field reporter responsible for updating a website and sending in stories to a couple of different papers. Thus I'm going to be even slower in posting. I encourage everyone to keep checking back because I'm sure I'm going to have some neat stuff to talk about from my travels...In fact I'm headed up to Virginia to cover a story about people camping in Eastern Virginia. If I learn anything cool I'll let you all know. You guys are the coolest those of you loyal readers. To my dear friends you know who you are...Dirks and Sue...you guys rock my face off...I'll see you on the flip side...Piece Out!
12.19.2005
The Random Question of the Day
Welcome to another episode of "Random Question of the Day".
Today's Question:
Do Adam's Apples Freak You Out?
Get to thinking about it....
Today's Question:
Do Adam's Apples Freak You Out?
Get to thinking about it....
How Much Fun Is Rap Music?...I Dare Say It Is Quite Fun...
I'm branching out with a short post about music. My unabashed whiteness is being compromised by my new found enjoyment of rap music. Forgive me for my lack of knowledge of 'biz terms' but 'southern rap' is what I'm primarily talking about. That music is just fun. Period. Fun. When Tricky Daddy is rapping with Lil' Jon and Twista with Ozzy Ozbourne's Crazy Train intro looped in the background, come on. That's fun. Ludacris' raps are the embodiment of fun. Carefree fun-loving tracks. For those of you that know me this is a step. I was a firm punk/indie fan. The Postal Service, Fallout Boy, just about any Warped Tour band past and present and some metal. I even dabbled in country for a short minute. I think one of the main selling points of Rap is that it's so infused with ego that you can't help thinking that you could
throw-down with anybody and kick them senseless. That is why 'gangstas', not to be confused with Gangsters, which are usually white men in dark suits gleaning most of their income from prostitution, gun running and gambling with occasional assassination sprinkled in for fun, walk around all billy-bronco-buster. The ego is fun until some punk-crank 15 year old steps-up, talking to you like he's going to snuff you if you look at him wrong. But yeah if kept in context, rap is fun. Go out and listen to some rap music. Piece Out.
throw-down with anybody and kick them senseless. That is why 'gangstas', not to be confused with Gangsters, which are usually white men in dark suits gleaning most of their income from prostitution, gun running and gambling with occasional assassination sprinkled in for fun, walk around all billy-bronco-buster. The ego is fun until some punk-crank 15 year old steps-up, talking to you like he's going to snuff you if you look at him wrong. But yeah if kept in context, rap is fun. Go out and listen to some rap music. Piece Out.
12.15.2005
So Love is an Over-used and Misunderstood Word...My Definition
Love is something we all think we like. We like falling into it. We like being in it. We like thinking about it. Until we understand it, it's the coolest thing. So here it is. Warren's Words o' Wisdom: Love; A man or woman who doesn't need someone, chooses to need them and promises to always be there for them unconditionally. The dictionary.com definition is;
A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.
An entirely independant person who doesn't need anyone likes someone enough to decide to need them. Thinking about love that way helps it seem like the honor it is. To be loved. To be loved is an honor, a promise, and a commitment.
Society "loves" everybody. What does love entail? Love, true love is unconditional. That means that person could could do anything and treat you like they don't even know you and you would still love them. Regardless of what they put you through or do to themselves or your relationship you still love them. We should use more discretion when we feel the urge to throw around the 'L word'.
Love in a relationship isn't a 50/50 split. If you and your significant other are each only putting 50% into the relationship then each of you have 50% hanging out somewhere else, not helping your relationship. A success relationship equals both of you putting in 100%. 100% of selfless love and devotion.
When people say they love each other after only knowing each other for a short time or before they even meet each other, they aren't really in love. That "love" means, they see it as a possibility that they may be able to devote enough care and concern, that it might be love. Eventually.
It is better to tell someone that you are interested in, that you like them or that you care about them enough to stick around. If they share your feelings you may be on the road to love but love has to grow. Care and concern are often mistaken for love. There's nothing unconditional about care and concern. But love is forever. That's my spin, let me know what you think. Piece Out.
A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.
An entirely independant person who doesn't need anyone likes someone enough to decide to need them. Thinking about love that way helps it seem like the honor it is. To be loved. To be loved is an honor, a promise, and a commitment.
Society "loves" everybody. What does love entail? Love, true love is unconditional. That means that person could could do anything and treat you like they don't even know you and you would still love them. Regardless of what they put you through or do to themselves or your relationship you still love them. We should use more discretion when we feel the urge to throw around the 'L word'.
Love in a relationship isn't a 50/50 split. If you and your significant other are each only putting 50% into the relationship then each of you have 50% hanging out somewhere else, not helping your relationship. A success relationship equals both of you putting in 100%. 100% of selfless love and devotion.
When people say they love each other after only knowing each other for a short time or before they even meet each other, they aren't really in love. That "love" means, they see it as a possibility that they may be able to devote enough care and concern, that it might be love. Eventually.
It is better to tell someone that you are interested in, that you like them or that you care about them enough to stick around. If they share your feelings you may be on the road to love but love has to grow. Care and concern are often mistaken for love. There's nothing unconditional about care and concern. But love is forever. That's my spin, let me know what you think. Piece Out.
12.13.2005
I'm on a Bad Streak Right Now...It Involves Bad Movies and A Great Friend...
So my ladyfriend, Sue and I have been spending sometime together and I can't find any reason to complain about that. Along with going out a lot we watched a lot of movies...when I say a lot...I mean a LOT. This past weekend we stayed in our grungy clothes and practically lived at the Blockbuster around the corner. I think that we probably watched 15 new release movies in the space of 2 1/2 days. That isn't the streak I'm on. I often watch many movies during my weekend. I can't seem to pick an enjoyable movie to save my life. If someone broke into my house and took my family captive and turned a gun on me and said pick a new release movie that I will enjoy or I'll shoot you. They'd have to shoot me. They'd shoot me right in the face. I'm in a slump. Sue picks great movies. Except one. DeadBirds. That's the name of the movie. Don't watch that movie. It is terrible, but if you want to know what Sue looks like, she looks like the short, fat, hairy man that gets dragged into the well.
I think I'd rather talk about Sue than her ability and my inability to pick a decent movie. I wanted to rant the other day about how I'm tired of women in my 'age group'. The 18-23 crowd. Sue isn't in my 'age group'. She's 14. She's amazing. Just yanking ya. She's a smidgeon (haha smidgeon) older than me and she doesn't let me ever forget it. She never fails to let me know that I was 7 when she was a freshman in high school. The biggest problem with my age bracket is that they don't know what they want. They are still sitting around wondering what they are going to do with their lives. If you asked them where they would be in five years they wouldn't have a clue in hell. I've got much more to say on this topic so keep coming back I'll eventually finish this thread...Take this away from this; let the woman pick the movies and hang out with older girls...not grandmothers...but just a hair older. Piece Out.
I think I'd rather talk about Sue than her ability and my inability to pick a decent movie. I wanted to rant the other day about how I'm tired of women in my 'age group'. The 18-23 crowd. Sue isn't in my 'age group'. She's 14. She's amazing. Just yanking ya. She's a smidgeon (haha smidgeon) older than me and she doesn't let me ever forget it. She never fails to let me know that I was 7 when she was a freshman in high school. The biggest problem with my age bracket is that they don't know what they want. They are still sitting around wondering what they are going to do with their lives. If you asked them where they would be in five years they wouldn't have a clue in hell. I've got much more to say on this topic so keep coming back I'll eventually finish this thread...Take this away from this; let the woman pick the movies and hang out with older girls...not grandmothers...but just a hair older. Piece Out.
12.12.2005
Street Racing is a Crime...Embarrassing...And Potentially Dangerous
I enjoy driving fast, I enjoy beautiful women, I enjoy apple pie. The latter has nothing to do with this story. I was mixing the first two this past weekend. Let me give you some back story. My ladyfriend lives near me and we were enroute to Blockbuster Video after dinner. My ladyfriend is not only capable of conversation but is quite attractive and enjoys giving me a hard time. I'm going to be a stingy SOB and not mention her name. My vehicle is the 1995 Golf GTI VR6 that I've mentioned in previous posts. Mix the two of them and you've got a marvelous evening. The two of them don't mind being mixed so long as I don't add a spritzing of random street racing. My friend I'll call her Sue for lack of a better name and so I don't have to keep refering to her as my "ladyfriend". Sue told me all weekend that racing is going to get me in trouble so I've toned it down...but not enough.
I was sitting at a light late Saturday night and heard the car next to me revv a bit. I echoed back with a high pitched revv from my chip-modded 2.8l. He revved again and the light changed. I dropped it and took off. Hitting each of my shift points to maximize the power and put it to the road. I had just hit my point in 2nd and slid it into 3rd when Sue looked over and in the calmest, almost soothing, your dying and that's the voice you want your nurse to have as you slip into the unknown tone she says "Hey, did you know you're racing a Sheriff?"
I can't even describe the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment, fear, and fear again.
He pulled us/me over and came to Sue's window. The first words out of his mouth were "Don't I know you from somewhere?" I told him that I didn't know. He also asked Sue how much she liked getting pulled over. She said that she didn't like it all that much. That was when the embarrassment set in. I felt like the biggest fool. Fortunately he let me go saying that he had a long day and was going home to see his family. I'm not going to bore you with all of the stories but I've had three speeding tickets in the past 9 months. The worst being 85 in a 55 that my lawyer took care of. So here I am forutunately still having Sue as my friend, having my license intact, and my car is still wicked Fast...the moral is to not race various forms of law enforcement officials in their actual squad cars....also if you've got a friend that gives you sound advice; FOLLOW IT!...Piece Out.
I was sitting at a light late Saturday night and heard the car next to me revv a bit. I echoed back with a high pitched revv from my chip-modded 2.8l. He revved again and the light changed. I dropped it and took off. Hitting each of my shift points to maximize the power and put it to the road. I had just hit my point in 2nd and slid it into 3rd when Sue looked over and in the calmest, almost soothing, your dying and that's the voice you want your nurse to have as you slip into the unknown tone she says "Hey, did you know you're racing a Sheriff?"
I can't even describe the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment, fear, and fear again.
He pulled us/me over and came to Sue's window. The first words out of his mouth were "Don't I know you from somewhere?" I told him that I didn't know. He also asked Sue how much she liked getting pulled over. She said that she didn't like it all that much. That was when the embarrassment set in. I felt like the biggest fool. Fortunately he let me go saying that he had a long day and was going home to see his family. I'm not going to bore you with all of the stories but I've had three speeding tickets in the past 9 months. The worst being 85 in a 55 that my lawyer took care of. So here I am forutunately still having Sue as my friend, having my license intact, and my car is still wicked Fast...the moral is to not race various forms of law enforcement officials in their actual squad cars....also if you've got a friend that gives you sound advice; FOLLOW IT!...Piece Out.
12.08.2005
Advice For You All...
It's Random Advice Time...Welcome.
"Never plan to repent at the eleventh hour because you could die at ten thirty."
Have a Great Day!
"Never plan to repent at the eleventh hour because you could die at ten thirty."
Have a Great Day!
12.05.2005
Guys: As A Species We're Not Doing So Great...Nothing Brings This Home Like Christmas...
I've been in my share of relationships and I'm fully aware when my significant other mentions that she wants a particular item for Christmas,Birthday, Anniversary, ETC....I do my best to remember said item so when the event rolls around I'm not the guy I saw in Bath and Body Works the other day. This guy didn't look like he knew if he was supposed to be there buying tires or potpourri. I'm going to guess that he didn't pay attention to the woman in his life or he doesn't know his mom very well. Another thing guys; if your girlfriend or wife mentions how nice it would be to have something. That means they want it and you can either buy it for them or they will use your money later and buy it for themselves. Make the holiday season or whatever the occasion, easier on yourself and make a note about what they want or could use. In my defense; I was at the Mall in BBW's with Dirks' wife because she wanted to pick up some smelly-stuff for their house. I needed to go to the Mall to purchase a French-Cuff shirt for my dad to compliment the cufflinks that mom got him for his birthday and she tagged along. I can't have people thinking inappropriate things about me...
If you are one of those dudes who's ignored your wife or girlfriend all year as to her wants and needs here's a fail-safe Warren Piece Will Bail My Goofy-Hind-End Out of This Jam, Gift Suggestion.
Women until time runs out or Christ returns will be concerned about how they look, feel, smell and the like. You can never go wrong buying beauty products. BBW's is a great place to go if you want to spend the dough. ("That Guy" that I saw in there had the right idea but didn't need to look so lost.) This is anything from lotions, little soaps, big soaps, air fresheners, fragrant candles, work with me here just about anything that they sell at BBW's or the Body Shop. The key to purchasing things from these stores is quantity. Buy many things. If you, for example, buy Cucumber Melon lotions go the extra mile and get the matching soap or air freshener. (most women already have a favorite scent...Do some investigating before you venture out to the smelly soap store)
As I further immerse myself into this joyous holiday season I'll have more tips. But the biggest tip is not to forget that Christ's Birth is the reason for the season and without that gift we'd all be in a world of hurt. Piece Out.
If you are one of those dudes who's ignored your wife or girlfriend all year as to her wants and needs here's a fail-safe Warren Piece Will Bail My Goofy-Hind-End Out of This Jam, Gift Suggestion.
Women until time runs out or Christ returns will be concerned about how they look, feel, smell and the like. You can never go wrong buying beauty products. BBW's is a great place to go if you want to spend the dough. ("That Guy" that I saw in there had the right idea but didn't need to look so lost.) This is anything from lotions, little soaps, big soaps, air fresheners, fragrant candles, work with me here just about anything that they sell at BBW's or the Body Shop. The key to purchasing things from these stores is quantity. Buy many things. If you, for example, buy Cucumber Melon lotions go the extra mile and get the matching soap or air freshener. (most women already have a favorite scent...Do some investigating before you venture out to the smelly soap store)
As I further immerse myself into this joyous holiday season I'll have more tips. But the biggest tip is not to forget that Christ's Birth is the reason for the season and without that gift we'd all be in a world of hurt. Piece Out.
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