The Unposted II

I've been having a tough time writing much of anything lately and all I'd really like to do is get through this block. So, as I've done once before, I'd like to post all of the blogs I've been trying to start over the last few weeks or months or so. Personally, I think most of these are lame but, in the very least, maybe I can convey where I was coming from or how frustrated I've been. I'm also hoping that one or two might inspire further introspection. There is one I'm definitely going to try to continue working on.

And. As before. Comments are in italics. Titles are in bold.

So, this one. I don't even know why I'm posting this one. No reason, really. Just wanted to show you how sometimes I have a hankering to write, then sit down, and nothing ah-t'all comes about. I guess I just moved on.

Animals (4/3/08)
Quick Post on driving across the country and looking for animals w/ pictures

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Well this started out with me sitting and staring at a computer for entirely to long. Then I figured I'd try to give a little writing exercise a try. It's kind of lame. I'm afraid that most of these posts are going to be kind of lame. Sorry. That's probably why they didn't get posted in the first place.

I promise at least a few passable lines somewhere in this doggerel. O.K. maybe a good word... One or two alright letters?

One good thing came of this, though. This post eventually turned into my story about rubbing Cologne on my genitals as a kid. Score one for the good guys. One of my major goals, in life, is a decent story, told decently. I'm usually able to manage one of the two.

No Title (6/7/08)
He sat poised at his lap-top, hunched over, wondering what to write and where to begin. A lifetime of laziness can't be cured in one evening, even if he knew where to start. Looking down, gaze drawn right, to that mysterious dry-spot on the inside thumb pad. What is that? Scratch it away. To no avail... wipe invisible/fake dust off of the keyboard for a second to gain time. What? What is he looking to gain? Time? For what? He's got all the time in the world but every time there's work that needs doin' he thinks to himself: Monday -or- after I get back. Well no more. Even if you've got nothing to write about... Write. Something.

One time when I was a kid I put Cologne all over my body. Every inch of it. Just after I had gotten out of the shower. Oooh! Eeeeh! Let's just say it ranks up there. As one of the dumbest and funniest things I've ever done.

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I really liked the idea of this one. Sometimes, I give up to easily. I love the imagery of L.A. as Castlevania II. And I really wish that I was playing that game right now...

No Title (6/11/08)
Somehow time slips by out here. In L.A. I don't know how it happens. I've heard people mention it and it is weird. Don't get me wrong. Time slips by Everywhere. But here, each day is the same. Like (and I don't often use similes but) a game of Castlevania II. Each day you walk around and talk to the local Transylvanians and ask them about strange things they may have seen or heard, maybe chat with them about the Count and the next thing you know you're outside and... IT IS DARK! Somehow time slips right on by.

Overall, I'm happy to be here. I forget that. I've had moments where it strikes me

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I think I lost my mind on this one. You know what I wish? I wish that when I lost my mind it were a lot funnier. All of the story stuff is true, though.

No Title (Also 6/11/08)
Sometimes, when you're blocked, it's best not to put words in a place where everyone can see. I say, fuck that. I live life on the edge and ya know what? I'm there right now. When you see me out on that edge and you say, "Hey man! Hey, Chris, Man... I don't think this is a good idea. Maybe we shouldn't be doin' this... I gotta baaaaaaaaddddd feelin' bout this one." Well, that's when I step over the edge. I live over. A couple times I died over... So, unless you're willing to follow me there, stop readin'.

What? You're gonna keep on readin', huh? Gonna follow me into the abyss? Ok, then but before we move forward you're going to need to know a couple things. 1. This ain't no James Cameroon's "abyss." Noooo No. Naw, this shit here is closer to the real "Cameroon."

We're out on the edge of Nigeria, man. 2. I suppose that just by reading, yer thinkin' I'm gonna take it easy on ya. Well I ain't. I ain't no chickenshit. And the fact that your still readin' says you ain't either. I like that... Shows me you got balls. So, at this point I hear you sayin' to yourself, "what're this guys qualifications?" Here's what they are: I crashed a car when I was only 3, I brained a teenager (who was attacking our house with eggs) with a D-cell battery in that same year, I once set fire- by accident- to a hillside when I was 12, and

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My bike is probably the number one topic that I want to write about. Maybe because I spend so much time on it. The only problem is that whenever I try to write about it the results are G.A.Y. gay.

Cutters (8/6/08)
I think I broke the land speed record tonight... on my bike. I've been riding my bike pretty steadily now since last October. I find that it's one of my favorite things to do. Let's reminisce (just for a second). Remember when we were kids and you got your bike? And a friend inevitably would ask, "ya wanna ride bikes?" Music to my ears. What a great idea. Now, I'm grown-up. And I live in a town, nay a city, NOOOOO nay, nay I say a County. A County called Los Angeles. One of the most widely spread (weird) cities on the planet. A place where everyone gets their car valeted and refuses to walk two blocks. Where you get a weird look for saying, "let's walk" and yet nobody looks cross-eyed at the guy in a fur hat on a 90 degree day. (I actually love fur hats. If my dog hadn't eaten my babushka I'd probably wear mine every day too.)

David and I moved to Los Angeles last fall and before we drove across the country, for the third time, we got a bike rack. The smartest idea my brother ever had. And once we moved into our new apartment and started going out to comedy shows on our bikes I found a wonderful thing happened. I loved riding my bike as much as, if not more, than going to the shows. (Except for when we got to perform.) When I left our apartment I'd say to myself, "AWESOME! I get to ride my bike now." And I'd feel the same thing when I left the show. I wasn't all crazy, sitting in a show, thinking about my bike the whole time but it was almost like I'd forgotten that this was my new transportation.

There have been some minor incidents. In November I got into a nasty wreck and smashed in muh face, cracked my front Beaver teeth, and still have some minor scars. I've also been hit, lightly, by a girl in an old volvo. She hit me with her front bumper, didn't look at me and kept driving... as though nothing happened. Yeah, just, "aaahhh, nothing... I didn't hit that guy." I got pissed, chased her to a light and said, out loud, "Fuck it." Then I got my rear wheel taken. It happens. I got a new one. It cost a lot of money.

Anyway, before I bore you completely all to hell let me

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This one I actually like. I was trying to write it as a short story and it'll eventually get finished. I also wanted to get it up as a tribute/ late extra wedding gift to my best friend Jamie Carroll. I was home for his wedding and we got to hang out a bunch but most of the time it was all drunken lunacy. I wanted to show him that my head can be full of tender thoughts to. To much? Whatever I like the topic... and I never quite got to it in this small piece. But it will get finished. Oh, It will get finished.

Father Coyne (Also 8/6/08)
St. Catherine of Siena Church was built in the late Eighteen Eighties. I imagine it's as beautiful today is it was when it was first erected. The Ceiling seems to reach up to Heaven, with graceful arcs crossing in symmetrical patterns. The gaze is immediately drawn skyward to God's Ceiling. It was a hot day and the church itself was no reprieve. (Have a piece in here about never being allowed to look up in Church, as a kid. Also add how I always look up in Churches now.)
Outside, as we were all exchanging pleasantries, old friends got reacquainted and new faces beamed in the hot sun. It's not often you gather for a best friend's wedding or even a rehearsal. nobody wants to screw up that "special day." Not on purpose anyway. Suffice to say everyone was looking their best in, not exactly keep-me-cool gear. As people were milling about on the sidewalk -waiting for a hunchback with a bottle opener to unlock the giant doors and let us into God's house- I glanced over and saw Father Coyne. Wow. It had been a long time since I had seen Father Coyne.
On one of the last occasions of seeing him my best friend Jamie's father, Jimmy, pantsed me at the front of a fishing boat as I was waving to another boat passing by. I was standing on a bench at the bow waving, smilingly when Jimmy decided he'd pull my pants down. Little did he know I was free-balling

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This one just seemed like bragging to me. I've never had a tan and I actually got one for a couple of days there in late August (what would be a couple of weeks ago.) I got excited. It was pretty nice. And it was gone in a day.

I can't believe it either... (8/26/08)
I've been swimming a couple of times a week for about a month now. Other than a scary little mole that I have on my back I've been experimenting with not wearing any sunblock. Dangerous. I know. I was once on a cruise ship, making my way to the pool with my shirt off, when I was stopped randomly by a woman who said, "for the love of God please tell me you have sunblock on..." What a horrible thing to say to a person. Of course I was wearing sunblock.

Recently, I've been heading down to the pool. It's been going really well, since you've asked. For some reason I've decided to see what happens without the block. And damned if I didn't go and get myself a tan. All over my back. Sure, there are a lot of freckles but for all of those people who gave me grief over the years: my back is giving you double white trash middle fingers right now... It's tan for me. Extremely tan for me. I do believe that's all you need to know.

-Chris

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Reminiscing about August. This was going to be completely sappy and a little overboard about how much I miss home and the feelings that I get at the end of August. Even though I live in a land where the weather is always the same and nothing ever seems to change I was still getting that old feeling that something different is in the air. Like Barack Obama. Coincidentally, I'd like to write a blog about how stupid you are if you don't vote for him. That'll probably end up in The Unposted III. I don't do politics well.

August (8/27/08)
There's always been something special about this month. Particularly at the end of the month. You can feel it. The air feels different. There's always something in the bittersweet embrace of the rapidly diminishing heat

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Are you kidding me?

Ain't No Stopping (9/6/08)
This is what I've been up to...

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I'm still trying to get over that last one. Whew! Huh! Am I right? I mean, am I right? Unbelievable. Anyway, This is the post I tried to write tonight. Eh! I just want to get back into form. I've learned in the last couple of months that you can do almost anything (well as long as anything is: running, swimming, and biking long distances) if you start slowly.

There was also a bunch of other stuff that I erased. For the most part it was about Marriage (my brother's), getting passed at The Comedy Store (three Cheers), and what else is happening in the World of The Walsh Boys. Hopefully, this'll help me gain steam.

News (Tonight)
OK. So, I haven't put finger to keypad in a while and it's killing me. I have tried to write, it's just been a chore... This may be a fight but let's both see it through. (Although, I do hope there is more than one person reading.) Where to begin?

First off, I'm competing in a triathlon in almost a week and hope that I'm amply prepared. I get to the pool once or twice a week and I'm starting to become a decent swimmer. Some mornings, I ride my bike eleven miles to work. I make good time by competing with cars and drafting buses. If it weren't for red lights I'd make great time but as it is the count stands at about forty seven minutes. I sleep with my helmet on.

-Chris