All I know is that I don't know.
All I know is that I don't know nuthin'.
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Sunday, March 06, 2011
So, yeah. It's been a long, long time since I've done this.
No, no, no. It's not you... I mean, it is you, because you're... damn. You're fine. Seriously, look at you. With that hair and... wow.
You... you're here with me. You're listening. All the guys out there and... I'm overthinking this. I really am. You're here, I'm here, and... OK. I don't know what you're expecting, but, I want to take my time. I need to get warmed up.
Alright. I haven't blogged in the better part of two years. You really haven't been missing anything. I'm still a dude. I still use two spaces in between sentences, even though typographers say that one space is all that you need, what with the advances in some sort of typeface, I can't remember if it's monotype or whatever. I learned how to type with two spaces, and, dammit, Ima keep doing that.
I still work. Some days more than others. I had a DUI. None of these stories are interesting.
I have had girlfriends. For real. Like, we held hands and everything. EVERYTHING.
These relationships didn't last. To quote Matthew Sweet, "Nothing lasts." To quote Chinua Achebe, "Things fall apart."
The first I had in a long, long while... We meshed so well on an emotional level. She was smart, witty, everything I thought I wanted. We meshed so well that we were both scared of our first date. It was a good kind of fear, and things went well. Until her ex showed back up. They are engaged now. I really am not angry about this. (Rebound #1)
The second... As pretty as the day is long. Smart, friendly, charming...
(Knee Play #1: iTunes Genius
How do you go from "Search and Destroy" by The Stooges to "Girlfriend" by Matthew Sweet?
When I want to hear The Stooges, I am clearly angry about something, and they provide catharsis. If I am angry about something, angry enough to write bullshit on the internet, do you really think it doesn't involve a female?
*Philip Glass Music*)
Great sex. Really great sex.
What? Oh, yeah. She was... She's a very sweet girl. Easy to love. Except if she'd been drinking. In which case, she was terriffic to fuck. But disconcerting.
Lovely girl, great sex. And, also, (Rebound #2)
This brings me to (Rebound #3).
Lovely girl. Smart, redheaded. Outgoing.
I, however, am gullible. "I don't even want just sex. I want to be myself for a while," she said. "That's fine," said I. "I don't want to be a rebound."
Y'all can see where this is going. She's a liar (but also young and hot) and I am a guy.
If, for no other reason, than the fact that that I am writing about this.
(Knee Play #2
Yeah, Pantera. You came in at EXACTLY the right time.
"Walk". Fuck. Yes.
What's metal and full of holes?
I am a terrible person.
Is that why you're not elbow-deep in pussy tonight?
Assert yourself. Karaoke doesn't get you laid, no matter how good you sound.
Does it get you a girlfriend?
Maybe at the prison talent show.
*Philip Glass Music*)
Cuz I don't.
I have no idea if this is a long update, or a short one, or, frankly, if any of the links to the left even work anymore.
What do I know?
Did you read the title of this blog?
All I know is that I don't know. All I know is that I don't know nothin'.
Get some knowledge.
I still love rawknroll. I'd put another dime in the jukebox if you'd like me to. Would you like what I play? I doubt it. Even if it rawks, you probably haven't heard of it or heard it before.
However, if you're here, and you're reading this, and you are putting up with my stupid bullshit whining about my dick not getting sucked, then maybe you'd dig what I play.
Who the hell is this guy? This "Grant Bennett". Is he a mystery, wrapped inside an enigima, covered in hair?
So, you take this thin skinned bullshit person who wears hair as a shield and listens to music that most people don't like, someone who doesn't believe in God but has sold his soul to rawknroll, and what do you get?
Nothing worth your time.
(Knee Play #3
Wow. That's negative.
Well, yeah. He feels that way right now. Poor guy got cockblocked. He wanted his weenus in the mouth, if not the vagina, of a pretty girl. He got a hug, at best. And it was one of those "Hey! Good to see you!" hugs, not one of those "Yeah, those are my tits pressing into your chest. *wink*" hugs.
So? He's old. He lives with is parents. What did he think would happen?
He's an optimist.
No, he really is. He started crying the other night listening to a Mr. Rogers song.
Sounds like a homo to me.
Not really. I mean, yeah, kind of. But, not touching weeners gay.
Seriously? A Mr. Rogers song made him cry?
He was drunk as hell.
*Philip Glass Music*)
... and sometimes there just aren't enough rocks."
There are times when I wish that, as The Apostle Dre taught, bitches were not shit in the Eyes of the Lord.
There are times when I am awesome, witty, confident and handsome.
The times when I am not hurt.
Comments by: YACCS