When it Rings Will You Answer?

One and One and One is Three

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based on these mistakes

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Hi friends!

I will still be using this blog as a place to put my short stories, bad poems, and worse drawings, but I have decided to start a more traditional type of blog as well.

Please check it out!

Based on These Mistakes

Written by whenitringswillyouanswer

August 5, 2014 at 12:16 PM

Posted in Random Thoughts

DAY SEVENTEEN – “A Treehouse”

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I realized that this is a writing challenge. It doesn’t have to be a creative writing challenge. So, here we are. I am going to just keep typing until something comes to me. Treehouse. Treehouse. Treehouse. I was never an adventurous kid. I was always insanely cautious. I didn’t climb trees. The thought of getting stuck or falling was far too terrifying. My dad built us a treehouse when we lived in Thornbury. It was “late eighties/early nineties safe” and also had a balance beam for my sister.

The only real memory I have of the treehouse is that balance beam. For as cautious as I was, I was still a stupid little boy and that balance beam was the exact height of my stupid little head. I was outside, throwing a ball in the air and hitting it around the yard, emulating Joe Carter as best I could. I got a hold of one and launched it. Now, you hit a dinger, you’re supposed to take your time with the “home run trot,” but not this kid. Oh no, I was all about the hustle. I raised my arms in the air and ran as fast as I could. Rounding second base is where it all went wrong. I must have missed it entirely when in the midst of my celebration, fist pump run and gotten off course. Within seconds I was on the ground and crying my stupid little eyes out. How one can go from jubilation to pure sorrow in a matter of seconds is always a sight to see.

That balance beam gave me a goosebump for the ages on my forehead. More importantly, it taught me to show some class when you hit a monster shot out of the yard. You’ve got to show the pitcher some respect, even if that pitcher was yourself. Young Josiah learned karma that day. Then ran into a door knob and got a matching goosebump on the other side of his forehead, but that is a story for another time.

 

So You’re 30

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So you’re 30 years old, emphasis on the old. You’re not one of those “have your shit together” 30s either. No, you don’t have a mortgage, spouse, kid, career, or whatever the fuck they’re counting as ‘adult’ these days.  I mean, hell, you don’t even have a goldfish, let alone a dog or cat. The thought of being responsible for another living thing terrifies the shit out of you. You lost your keys at least seven times last month alone. You’d tie your mittens to your coat if you didn’t fear being socially ostracized. It’s getting bad enough that the singles’ table at your friends’ weddings has turned into the kids’ table. You my friend, are an embarrassment. At least that’s what you are starting to believe about yourself. I am here to tell you that it’s all bullshit.

Ask yourself this: WHO THE FUCK CARES?

Maybe you had a life plan and it went awry. You had the guy or girl of your dreams, were on the right path career-wise and had your eye on that Siberian Husky litter down the street. Then your company was investigated by the OSC, your girlfriend/boyfriend left you for the bartender at your favourite pub, and the Siberian Husky puppies were all claimed. Suddenly you’re in the same spot that loser friend that never even finished university is in. What happened? Life happened. It’s shitty, but hey, you’re alive and still have time to turn it all around. Quit belly aching. You had it all once, who says you can’t have it all again? Look at Robert Downey Jr., everybody loves a good redemption story. Just don’t Lohan this shit. Plus that bartender will totally cheat and you’ll either get to be the supportive shoulder or laughing, judgmental finger pointer. It’s never quite as bad as it seems.

For those of us who never bothered with the life plan and still don’t know what the fuck we are doing, life isn’t all that bad either. We have the freedom to sit in our pyjamas and type idiotic advice blogs (while alternating between cutesy and creepy subreddits) until four in the afternoon. Some times people even read these things. I mean, your life must be pretty fucked up right now if you are taking anything away from this, but it could be worse. If you are reading this, you have access to the internet, so, I mean, yay porn, right?

I think I’ve lost the original intent of this post. I turned 30 and freaked out. I just wanted to swear a lot and pretend that everything will be okay. Truthfully, I actually kind of believe that. “The future is unwritten” as Joe Strummer would croon and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Thanks for reading and I apologize profusely for wasting your time. Please enjoy this Cyanide & Happiness comic.

porn-everywhere3

Written by whenitringswillyouanswer

March 13, 2014 at 11:10 AM

I haven’t abandoned you …yet

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Oh, hello.

It’s been a while, hasn’t it?

I know, I know, I promised that I would pay more attention to you this time. That this time it would be different and that I would never leave you again. It may seem that I have broken those promises but I assure you that I am still here and I am still typing away. The thing is, I have been trying to actually finish something before posting it. No more of these cop-out “chapters” that may or may not ever reach a conclusion. I mean, I haven’t forgotten about Ingrid, but she’s on the shelf.  I don’t know if what I am working on is any good, but it’s coming along.

I have not abandoned you   …yet

To make up for my lack of attention, here is an adorable picture of a wiener dog dressed as a wiener. You’re welcome.

 

Written by whenitringswillyouanswer

October 5, 2013 at 2:14 PM

I hate the way you tease me.

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Summer, you seemed to be right around the corner. Hiding within each cold breeze you would whisper in my ear, “Don’t fret, we’ll be together soon. I’m just biding my time and warming the ground so you’ll have a place to sit, drink, and be happy in the park.” I believed you. I went about my cold winter days with thoughts of you in my head and in my heart. You kept me warm.

But where have you gone? Today I woke up to the bleakest sky and coldest air. I’ve woken to the threat of freezing rain and broken promises. Summer, you’ve abandoned me in my time of need. Come back to me, Summer.

Summer in the Park

Written by whenitringswillyouanswer

April 10, 2013 at 9:43 AM

“For one moment I can see clearly…”

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It seems strange, today is the first day in about a month where it doesn’t feel as though the weight of the world is trying to crush me. I say strange because nothing has changed from yesterday to today, but when I awoke, I felt as though I could actually breathe. I have to remember to breathe. I often forget. It’s a silly thing to forget to do, I know. I used to have a friend who would always remind me. My life has been a struggle without her. Still, I feel as though that is my own doing. You really should not rely on somebody else to remind you to do something that should be instinctual. Of course, Death Cab for Cutie once taught me that instincts are misleading and that I shouldn’t think what I am feeling. I don’t necessarily know if that is true, but it sure does sound nice, doesn’t it?

That is all I have for you today. I guess I just felt like marking the occasion. Thanks for stopping by. Enjoy today’s beautiful blue sky.

Love always,

josiah

its-kind-of-a-funny-story-1-2et090h

Written by whenitringswillyouanswer

February 6, 2013 at 5:39 PM

I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning

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I love mornings. I really do. I don’t necessarily enjoy waking up. I mean, who WANTS to wake up from dreaming about throwing the Super Bowl winning touchdown with no time left one the clock while also playing a sold out rock show on Mars? NO ONE! However, once I am awake, mornings are wonderful. I don’t sleep much and my mornings tend to begin before most others’. I have always been partial to living my life by the Leonard Cohen mantra, “The last refuge of the insomniac is a sense of superiority to the sleeping world,” and I often do have that artificially inflated sense of superiority in the early mornings. They are a time of relaxed reflection; a brief moment of zen before the harsh realities of life come crashing through the window with the sun and the noise of the city.

Of course, I prefer morning when I don’t have to get out of bed to mornings I have some place to be. I’m not about to be walking to work at five in the morning Whistling Dixie. I’m not a maniac. Yet, even on those mornings, walking the normally bustling city streets of downtown Toronto, there is something oddly comforting about the silence. A nod to the prostitute still trying to make her way. A tip of the cap to the early morning delivery trucks and a wink to the ending night shift workers thankful to see the morning crew arrive. All right, so maybe I am a bit of a maniac.

The mornings I truly love, are the mornings I have absolutely nothing to do. The mornings I can make a pot of coffee, climb back into bed, put on an album, and reflect. Some times on happy thoughts. Some times on friendships lost. Some times on what I want to be when I grow up. Some times not. Some mornings I will just sip my coffee and be completely void of all cognitive functions, and  some mornings I will have the urge to write. I suppose that is what happened this morning thanks to my putting on the album, “I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning.”

Could mornings be better? Absolutely. My mornings would be monumentally better if I woke up next to someone I loved. I could share all my crazy with her. We could sip our coffee, listen to Bright Eyes and scoff at the still sleeping world. Alas, for now, I will wake in solitude. I’ll find her one of these days. Thanks for reading friends.

Written by whenitringswillyouanswer

December 8, 2012 at 12:13 PM