I need your help…not mentally, because we know that day of sanity will never come. I’m creating a bucket list for 2012. I have a bucket list for life…but I need one for this year only. You know, stuff I must cross off before I take office as your President. Things that I want to do, that you can suggest. As I get older, and wiser, I forget things that I’ve always wanted to do…or I just put it off. So…suggest away, or away with your head!

THE LIST SO FAR:

Become A Volunteer Somewhere (Not a brothel, this time)
Do Stand-Up Comedy Somewhere, One Night

I’m going to have to quit you…for reals this time.

Ironic that we just brought up ‘time,’ because it’s actually about that.

You see, I…well..this is very hard to explain. I want to be a centenarian. What does this have to do with you? I know you’re so great to me, for a few hours. We’ve seen sunrises together. You taste really good, after the first layer is devoured. You enhance my dance moves. You make me double my dose of water, after a night of you and I together, which is good for my body and hydration.

However, if you truly care about me and want me live to the age of where I can wear Depends, and not be criticized for it, then you will agree with it. It’s for the best…for both of us.

Take care. And as time progresses, and you too would like to grow old together, here’s how we can do it (and not ‘that’ it, purrrv.)

P.S. Is it odd that I have this dream of being a trucker?

…Well, it’s the same way sitting on a train.

I tend to think I’m on stage or jammin’ in my room, while I’m listening to my ipod on the train. If I stand..I’m usually channeling Elvis and movin’ my pelvis, in a non-purrverted “come and rub up against me” kind of way. Sittin’ down, I’m a stompin’ and clappin’. Enjoying myself. Minding my own business. Yes..there are times when the train gets crowded..and you’re “bumping and grinding” against each other. However, when the trains aren’t crowded, there’s no reason to put your junk in front of my face as I sit and you stand, fellers! There are open seats..there’s standing room all over the train! I’m not here to look at your bollocks in front of my face, blocked views with nowhere else for my eyes to roam, and left with nothing else to do but to watch them bounce in front of me. I don’t get paid to do that! I’m not a damn crotch guard! Take your junk elsewhere.

The bottom line here is…respect my “box”..and I’ll respect yours. Amen.

I’m a pretty patient “human” being. I hardly ever get mad about anything. However, things that really lagkjeoisjtgoisaje me..I freak out about. It’s kinda like having O.C.D.,..and getting agitated when something isn’t right.

One thing I can not stand..well..two things I cannot stand are slow walkers, more so..the people that are walking slow while looking at their damn phone, probably waiting on their wanna-be lover to text them something dirrty, ..but they’re going to keep waiting because no one wants to deal with someone that sits there and walks slow, to check their messages..but first changing their cheesy Rihanna song on their ipod, so that they can set the mood..just in case of the slightest chance that their wanna-be lover does texts them..that way they can have their own song, even though they aren’t a “they,”..yet. There’s always hope.

Two..the slow walkers that take up the whole damn sidewalk. You know..the ones that are in groups, and feel like they have to do a single filed line, horizontally. I mean, there’s no way around them. They know you’re behind them, but they won’t budge. They don’t care. They have you out numbered.

At least I don’t have to sit in Atlanta traffic, anymore, and let my road rage build up..like that one time I whipped out the toy gun.

My cure for this..a brand new game we bring to NYC..BODY BUMPER CARS! Screw your cardio workout, yoga, kickboxing and lamaze classes. Body Bumper Cars is a great stress relieving, body toning, pore closing, skin toughening, adrenaline rushing, exciting..and aphrodisiac exciting(all the body touching) daily activity! It’s become my favorite activity, thus far, in NY! It really teaches them a lesson! And if it doesn’t..that’s where the ‘Cars’ part comes in. ..Yeah..you know where that’s leading.

So, give it a try! Money back..in my bank account, guaranteed! Body Bumper Cars!..Coming to a sidewalk near you!

P.S. Do not try this on the elderly. ..or you’ll go to heaven.

CURRENTLY LISTENING TO: Cab Calloway “Minnie The Moocher”

I choose the one that does not require a key..for two reasons (no..I do not have o.c.d. with the number 2.) I don’t like small talk, bathroom talk, smelly smells, yadda yadda.

One..When I worked with The Bert Show..we had someone on our floor, that we called the “10 ‘o clocker.” The show would end at 10am..we would all rush to the loo, because during the show there would only be a few min between commercials..and not enough time to release fluids (yummy.) Every single mother f-n day, 10 am, the loo would smell so f-n bad!! One day, for reasons of our health and the smell effecting our nasal passages, we stalked the bathroom to figure out who it was. ..Names of which I can not display here.

Now, there was a bathroom on the first floor at the radio station, but that bathroom was for the whole building. It was kinda a known thing..that people only go to the first floor bathroom to do what the 10 o’clocker on our floor would do. Instead of effecting my nasal passages and wanting to throw up and regurgitate my breakfast, I would risk the fact that someone would see me walk out of the first floor bathroom..and sneakily walk out..and pretend I would be coming from the cafe on the first floor.

Therefore, I feel like the people at my new job will judge me for going to the one-stall loo. The one-stall loo is kinda like the bathroom on the first floor. And they’ll be like “ohhh..I know why she was in there. Then, I’ll become known as the “One stall girl (which would be a great porn title.) However, I’m willing to take that risk. Why?..

I can’t stand when people talk to me, and continue to talk, as I go into the stall to release my bladder or when they’re releasing their goodness. It’s like really?!??..Is this the appropriate place for that?!! I’m like “Sorry..I can’t hear you, due to the sprinkling and clunking you’re doing in the bowl.” Sooo f-n disgusting!! Then, there’s the awkward small talk, when we’re both at the sink (me..washing my hands longer than the other person.) They’re saying something about nothing, and all I can think about is the fact that they rinsed their hands for two seconds. If everyone would be comfortable with silence in the bathroom, all would be right in the world. But no! They start the small talk..and their awkwardness about coming up with something small and non-interesting to talk about..in turn makes me more awkward than normal…therefore, making the bathroom an even more uncomfortable place.

Two, to get the key for the bathroom..I have to go to the front desk girl’s desk (Whose name I still can’t remember,) and get it. I feel like she gets bothered by my small bladder going over there every time..and I feel the like she’s expecting some unecessary small talk with her..just because I walk by her desk….every 30 minutes. But I don’t do it..so she probably thinks I’m an ahole.

So, I just went downstairs, in the building at work, to see the li-ul old lady to get my daily dose of aphrodisiac York peppermint patty. I typically put skim milk and honey in my coffee, but I’ve lately discovered the contribution the warm tasting ooze of the aphrodisiac York peppermint can provide..as it melts in my coffee.

Anyway..the gals at the front desk were freaking out as I walked down..about someone that was in our building. All I saw was three plumber looking fellers. When I came back up, my curiousity had me wondering who they were freaking out about. Out of the bathroom..walked a man that I recognized..but didn’t think it was him..but it was. He said “Hiii,” with a nice southern accent. It was Mr. “Achy Breaky Heart” himself. I didn’t recognize him without his rat tail. I bet his “bathroom talk” would be quite interesting. I guess it’s more awkward for guys to have “bathroom talk,” as they’re at the urinal..holding their wang.

CURRENTLY LISTENING TO: Blair Crimmins and The Hookers “Old Man Cabbage”

So, I just moved in my place. I was sitting here wondering if I had anything, that I didn’t sell, that was at my mum’s that I might need. I was thinking about what I left there, and I remembered that someone bought me magnets. It occurred to me, that I have never put magnets on my refrigerators..never. Not that the bodies, that were in the refrigerators, would start to decompose because of the magnetic force penetrating from the door..but because I just don’t understand why people decorate their damn fridge?!? Do you put crap on your cabinets?..decorate your floors with pictures of your friend’s ugly kid?.. That’s what the walls are for. And those letter magnets!..spelling out dirrty words!..Really?! Sext someone if you’re horny. Sheesh. Therefore, my new refrigerator will be naked..the way I usually am, when I’m home.

The internet guy came this morning(and maybe he did in bed last night,) to install my internet. It took him several years to do it, but now I finally have access at home..to write you dirrty ramblings such as this one. I know that pleasures your insides to know this.

My roomie, Todd, is driving up from Charlotte, today. He should be here in a few hours. I’ve gotta run. Need to clean up the porn and masking tape, before he arrives.

We’ll talk later.

CURRENTLY LISTENING TO: CCR “Tombstone Shadow”

I remember face.  You may realize that ‘face’ wasn’t plural.  That’s because I don’t  like two.  If there were two, I wouldn’t remember face.  I really wouldn’t care..to.

This website will be filled with all sorts of ..things..people..nudies..videos..nudie  videos..yadda yadda….of my wandering on this earth.  I love to take pictures, whether I’m hanging with friends with a face..looking at the sun..traveling..observing the people of the world and their face..I just love to capture the moments.  I guess we can call this ‘Thee Autobiography of Shawn: Just There.’

Thanks to Bret Phillips, for helping me get this website thing going.  If only I knew how to work it.  If you have any suggestions of what I should put on here, holla to me at Shawn@shawnwilliams.net

Meow.