Wasted youth thrust into the pit of middle age caught in a wonderment of happiness despite having done nothing with my existence.
In my offal youth no adherence to goals or wisdom has landed myself in a void stream, complete with no tangible love, meaning or purpose. My awesome family and friends give me reason to laugh and bask in the entertainment of books, sports, comedy, news and "Rush," my favorite band. I'm still not working steady enough to afford the video equipment I need (want) to film and upload foolish videos I've written.
I'm just a boring old fool who day dreams about vast riches and living alone in a moderate sized RV. Because I completed three years of college (way to late!) doing journalism for a living is no longer in my deck of life. If I was extremely wealthy, I'd spent most of my money on local schools and bringing back the human element into job interviews.
Last year I literally had to compete with 25 other people to be a sole dish washer at Olivers Market. Thank the powers that be for Labor Ready. Pass a drug test and say yes to work; presto, I can pay my bills, because of Labor Ready.
All I want for myself material wise is modern video and still photography equipment, to live in an RV and travel the U.S. for months if not years at a time. Share the occasional weekend with family and friends and this simple soul is set. To spend the evening with a drink and a friend Neil Peart wrote in 1987.
Against doctors orders, I'm making another appointment to donate platelets again. It's been three months since my last donation. My doctor told me not to donate for six months. The blood bank is happy with six donation a year, I've topped more than 14 donations per year since 2010.
I donated plasma more then 60 times in 2010 while living in Utah. Donating depletes your iron, but just slightly. In September my doctor said my iron was low. Due to some cancers and accidents, some peoples life's depend on others blood, plasma and platelets.
I'm way over due for reading again and researching real news stories to write about. I'd write a review of the new "Rush, Clockwork Angels Tour," but I'm way to biased to write an open minded review. In the world of journalism, it's a conflict of interest. I also could never write a review of an Eminem concert. Without seeing a second of footage or hearing a single note from Eminem, my review would start out something like this: The soulless noise and vulgar lyrics displayed how musically retarded(c) rap music really is. I've heard better sounds from a baby banging on pots and pans with a large metal spoon.
If I ever wanted to write an article how a filthy minded second grade boy thinks, reading Eminem lyrics would be the perfect words for the research. If I live to be 2000-years-old and never hear one of Eminem's vastly uneducated and simple songs, I would be quite content.
Life is short, get a woman (lover) before your 30, stay in shape, get rich, help others and laugh.
