Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Carroll's Journal #24 (Seriously)


I will be leaving for L.A. shortly. My friend announced that he has a surprise for me when we get there. (Please let it be Miley Cyrus) Actually, I am slightly reserved about it. My friend has surprised me before in the past in the history of our friendship. His surprises tend to have me waking up three days later amid a mental blur in some hotel room of some unpronounceable city, state, country, with a donkey, a clown and a disgruntled midget in a thong bikini eating strawberry ice cream.

Don’t ask.

I met a new friend a few weeks ago. We keep bumping into each other every other day it seems. She has a lovely smile. A very sweet persona about her. She giggles with about everything she says and it’s not one of those giggles that annoys you either. It’s cutesy. She’s looking for a 2nd job. I told her I might consider her for my personal assistant position if she is interested. Amazingly, she is! And let’s face it, I could use some help every now and then. Since she is 22 then she can go to the liquor store and get my breakfast for me from time to time. And go to walmart too. She can run all my errands. Well, I have her on the list. I might be hiring next month. She and I seem to click really well.

Did I mention how adorable she is?

Seriously bro, what is this surprise? (I hope it’s Mila Kunis) That would be too cool. Oh, I remember this one time when he and I went to Indianapolis for a Halloween party in … let me think … 2002? I do believe. It was at this house of an adult film producer and there were like twenty adult film actresses running around all over the place and ….. And we had a pretty good time. The end!

Why do I have visions of Buddy Holly going through my head?

Seriously, a donkey, a clown and a disgruntled midget in a thong bikini eating strawberry ice cream? … I said “don’t ask”.

Which would you rather have? A broken heart, a paper-cut on your middle finger or an incurable sexually transmitted disease? … I don’t know about you but I am leaning towards the broken heart. (Paper-cuts freaking hurt.)


Seriously, dude, tell me what this surprise is already? C’mon man. (Is it Masiela Lusha?) Oh sweet mercy! If only that were true. How am I going to go through this whole entire flight with this on my mind? The anticipation alone is like Venus in overdrive to my imagination. Is it bigger than a bread basket? Is it a breadbasket? C’mon, just tell me.

If memory serves me right, the girls in California are of the awesome variety. Well, a lot of them are anyway. I like that. Then again, there are plenty of girls everywhere who are of the awesome variety, isn’t there? I would certainly hate to isolate California girls in that category.

Carroll’s Dictionary defines “Job Security” as - When you get employee of the month after just working four hours of your first day.



Okay, seriously, I am going to call my friend up and tell him I can’t go. Then, whatever this surprise is, he will tell me so that I will change my mind and go again. Give me a moment.

Or two.

I’m back. I just got off the phone. My little trick worked. I told him I wasn’t going to go because the circus is coming to town and I got some strawberry ice cream in the freezer. Anyhow, he buckled as I predicted. Turns out he got a couple of tickets to a Rick Springfield concert in Stateline, Nevada. It’s right next to Lake Tahoe. (I think) Anyway, SERIOUSLY!?

Now I am a little excited. This trip is going to rock. Sorry I had to break you down dude, but I hate it when people tell me I have a surprise waiting and I have to wait to find out what it is. I am not one for patience. But I did it, I got him to talk. I should be a sleuth. Or a lawyer. Or someone who earns a living getting people to talk without using water-boarding tactics.

Aawww, no Masiela? Seriously?

Okay, so he did drop the big hint, advising me to post Springfield videos on my journal posts. I should have figured it out sooner. I shouldn’t have needed to call him. Maybe I should have used my psychic powers. So I am a slow sleuth, cut me some slack, better late than never. Unless you’re talking about ….. No, it’s always better late than never.

Well, this is just great! Now time is going to pass slower than molasses in a Vermont winter.



Just so you all know, I will have my agent popping in on my blog account to post a few things. So will Jennifer and Ira and when I get a chance, if I get a chance, I will post one or two things. I want to keep the ball rolling while I am away for the week. I will be checking my emails when I can. I will also pop in on Goodreads if at all possible however, Jennifer could be popping up on my profile during this time too. Don’t worry, she has been instructed on what not to do.

Fooling people is not cool. Seriously!

I see that North Carolina has finally defined marriage as one man and one woman. It’s nice to know that state supports communism. Hey! A father is a man and a daughter is a woman. It’s all beginning to make sense now. Seriously though, what is it about that what two people do together should scare so many others? I’m a heterosexual guy and homosexuality does not scare me. This world is filled with enough hate (North Carolina) if two people find love together then it should be celebrated in this world because trust me, there’s just not enough of it or so it would seem. And those two people happen to be two girls or two guys or a dude and a lamp post, then so be it. My point is, embrace the love. Where ever you can find it. (And don’t say it’s a religious/Christian thing, then you would only be proving my point that religions are fundamentally communistic.) Besides, I thought it was “Gods” job to “judge”?

Moving on .....

I just read where Orlando is the smuttiest town in America. Seriously? The same town that features Disney is the smuttiest? The town of childhood dreams and … gulp! …. Children? Is the smuttiest? That just doesn’t sound right, you know what I mean?

Insert gutter thoughts here à (____________)

I came back from the store the other day with a huge box of Pop-tarts. I don’t even eat Pop-tarts. What the freak? I guess I eat them now. Twenty-four packages of two tarts each. That’s a lot of Pop-tarts.

I just got word that no sooner will I get back from my trip, I can go and pick up my new song at the studio. My producer called and informed me that the guitar solo is done. He just needs to mix it and it will be ready by the time I return. I can’t wait to finally hear it in it’s completed form. And yes, I will try and get my manager to put together another video of it and hopefully by the end of next week, I will have it up on Youtube.

So I am thinking that while on this trip, would I have time to get a tattoo? And if so, what to get and where to put it? I am open to any ideas you all may have in that department. My first thought was, “BAD BOY” across my lower back or one of my shoulders with a picture of a baby in leather diapers drinking from his bottle that has cross bones and a skull on it. (If possible) LOL

And I still have to take that dreaded blood test for that girl when I get back. I’m telling you, it’s not my daughter. Oh well, we’ll let the blood test decide. (Gets a fifty spot ready for the bribe)

No, seriously, a donkey, a clown and a disgruntled midget in a thong bikini eating strawberry ice cream.

Fine! You may ask! But just this one time. Seriously.



 

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