One year

Today is the day I began my life in Raleigh one year ago. Can't believe it. So much has happened. Year two is going to be even better. Quick one today, gotta get to work, just wanted to mark the date. I may post something of note later tonight.

A Twenty scores Twenty. *sniff*

So last night, I am out at this bar across from the state capital (Neon, Non-Wood bar, no fat jolly bartender...but good crowd, poll and darts and women) and had a great time. So someone gets to telling me about this autistic kid up in Rochester, NY.

Kids name is Jason McElwain . A senior at Greece Athena High School, He loves basketball and is the manager of his high school team. Think "mascot". This kid was the way for the coach to feel like he was doing something right by the mentally challenged. Sort of like me and a few people I have dated.

For the last game of the season, the coach decides to suit up the kid. Hoping that the score of the game would allow him to put Jason in. He made Jason one of the "twenties". What , pray tell is a "twenty" you ask?

A Twenty is a kid who only plays if his team is up by twenty points, down by twenty points, or there are twenty seconds left in the game. I was never a twenty. I was a starter on my C.Y.O. (CA-THO-LIC Youth Organization for those of you who might be wondering. That should also explain a lot about me and my various dysfunctions) team and would get mad as hell when they played me off the bench. The fact that I got tossed out of games for roughness, foul language and cursing out referees and calling them blind, shouldn't have come into play. That is another story though.

Anyhow, so the Greek Athena team does indeed get up by twenty points and the coach, seeing his opportunity as the god of the mentally deficient, points a long finger at Jason and tells him to get his basketball, definitely basketball playing ass into the game.

The kid gets in and misses his first shot by about 5 feet. Total airball. They feed him the ball again and he bricks it off of the rim. Then! This little fucker! He hits 6 THREE-POINTERS IN A ROW!!!!! Oh, and one two pointer! 20 points!!!!! This kid was hot shit. He was a state championship waiting to happen. He was a basketball savant in a candy coated autism shell.

Anyhow, I am hearing this story at this booth in the bar and can't believe it. Too good to be true right? Went home after some dj-ing, dancing and bar conversations like "If you could have any super power, what would it be" (I contended that omnipotence and living forever, like the Highlander did not equate to a super power even if you were caught up in a struggle across time in an intercontinental sword fight to the death with a Queen soundtrack to your life.By the way, Don't Stop Me Now is an all time favorite that makes me think of Christa and me.) and didn't give this kid another thought till this morning.

I was thinking what a shame it was that this kid only got to play in one game for his team. Any kid who can hit six 3-pointers, surely would have gotten some nice playing time over the course of a season. It was then that it hit me. That little fuck probably shot his little self into a buttload of cash.

I smell a movie! This is waaaaay better than Rudy or Jerry McGuire ,which I always thought was stupid. For some reason the little kid in that movie, Zellwiger's kid, freaked me out. He was a demonic little man-child in my mind. Plus would Tom Cruise pleeeeeease just come out of the closet already? Come on Tom, I know you're reading. It's okay. We will love our gay-scientologist-mission impossible hero.

They should get Matt Damon to star. I know what you're thinking, and I agree. Affleck would have a much easier time looking, and acting, autistic. Sure, he may have a leg up, but it's just got to be Matt. LOOK AT THE RESEMBLANCE!
Surely this would work. They could even give him a love interest and lines like "I'm not a smart man, but I know what love is." This would work wonderfully for me. I am going to nominate Penny Lancaster to portray the love interest. This story would then have it all plus a really hot chick. At the end they could all raise up Matt on their shoulders and Mr. Oscar, and I don't mean The Grouch, in their back pocket.

So watch the video and get the Kleenex ready. That kid sure plays a mean b-all.

Bars

I have spent some time in bars. They are places to go to in times of joy, in times of sorrow, and at times of reunion. I have too much experience probably. I know the etiquette up and down. I may not know how to fold a napkin, and still have to think about what to do at a revolving door with a lady (the answer is, men go first, only way you can essentially open the door for your date) but I know the bar etiquette up and down. Tip a dollar a drink. Don't be offended when the bartender cuts of a convo to go help a customer. If a friend buys the first round, you buy the next and never, ever keep track of who gets the last one and pays more for the night, it'll come back to you.

In thinking about NYC, a friend recommended a good bar. This got me thinking about what I tend to like in a place and what I don't. If you have any other thoughts, please ad them in the comments.

Perfect bar

• Wood, not Formica or something else
• Low lit at night (this helps the beer goggles tremendously)
• NO NEON! Ugh! I hate any bar with Neon
• Preferably no TV, and if there is one, a place you can go so you won't be staring at it.
• Good music. That leaves a lot of room for interpretation. I am talking background noise, a place you can hear yourself think and hear your companions
• Women. Not because I am on a hunt. Meeting a woman I don't want a meat market. Just not a sausage party.
  
• Fat Bartender. I love me some portly tender for some reason.
• No theme. I HATE theme bars. Just a place to drink and converse please
• Pool Table. Pool is always a great bar distraction. Darts works well also.
• No frat kids or guys with the same haircut and very similar Banana Republic button down shirts.
• A place where everyone is comfortable. Warm and inviting.

So there you have it. A very short list. It's not a hard list of musts, but a list which makes perfection for me.

I'm thinking that three of those on the perfect list makes a place that I could go. I don't stick around long in places that I am not comfortable. There are other places that would be happy to beat on my liver.

Have a great weekend all.

Bump-bump-bumpa-bump

Start spreadin' the news. Friday, March 3rd...NYC.

Going to go to a couple favorite places. So I will be calling a bunch of you to make plans or shoot me a note if you would like to get together.







So I am going to be in NYC almost a year to the day after I left. I can hardly believe it has be 365 already.

I want pizza, ethnic food and subways.

Just to change it up

Figured I should finally get rid of my Valentines Day post. Here's a list of things I have done since Valentines Day

• Started planning on a new website colaberation.
  
• Went to a friends b-day party at 9:00 p.m.
  
• Helped move the furniture out of the way at 12:30 a.m. to create a dance floor in the living room
• Helped to move the furniture out of the way at 1:30 a.m. to create another dance floor in the den
• Ended the party at 7 a.m. at a another friends house to watch a building implode
• Watched some Olympics and wished that Ice Dancing was not considered a sport, though the female dancers themselves are really hot as a general rule.
• Talked to a friend until the both of us were having trouble keeping the eyelids up.
  
• Thought about purchasing some art.
• Wrote a few songs
• Discovered Pimento Cheese. My god! Where have you been all of my life?
• Added some new links David & Kate
  

There you have it. I would also like to add that On St. Pattie's day, the piece that I posted as my Valentines Day video will be showing here in Raleigh as part of David's show with artist Mia Yoon, this time it will be the full piece though. Anyone who wants to come down is welcome.

On this day like any other

(Updated:Just to let you know, I wrote the following because it didn't seem that I would have the video today. I have since recieved the video and am going to post it at the end of this post later today)

Well, unfortunately, I could not successfully upload the special Valentines day video in time for this morning. So those of you who, not completely disappointed in my dynamic display of technological ineptitude can continue to read on, the rest of you, Happy Valentines Day.........

Valentines Day. What does it mean? Apparently some fucker (St. Valentine) got killed for some shit and he was sending notes to someone. Big fucking deal. There is no holiday for a saint who shat often! St. Crapsalot Day!Believe you me, unlike love, that is satisfying EVERY TIME, except for after jalepeno laced burritos and Negro Modelo night at the Happy Taco Garden, in which case it might burn a little (also like love, to continue the analogy). I'm sure we singles could get Charmin to back this one if we put our minds to it. Hallmark is all about this letter writing fuckface cockburger who died in two hundred sixty nine A fucking D!

Maybe, as a single person I should go to a nice restaurant tomorrow. Get myself some flowers, a nice bottle of wine. You know? Really wine and dine me and turn on the charm. "What will you be having this evening sir?" my cheery not been kicked in the ass by life waitress will say. I will then look at my young, innocent 20-something waitress and say...

"I know what I'll be having with my bitterness, yeah.I bet you have dreams don't you? I had dreams at one time. They were wonderful and filled with buttercups and warm sunny days. That time was called my twenties, and those dreams? Dead! Dead as Mel Torme and the lady from Throw Mama From the Train. Oooooooh, I was twenty once. Now I know better. I'm thirty three. Life has kicked me in the balls more than once. Each and every time I feel like I am going to puke. Do you know what that tastes like? Your own vomit? It tastes like relationship. You wanna know what love tastes like? Why don't you go ahead and plunge your hand into my chest and rip out my heart Indiana Jones style? We'll get all these happy, let's look at each other like we are having dinner in a nice European restaurant, I am so in love on this day only when I am going to forget about all the shit you do that pisses me off and keeps me from really expressing any love for you the rest of the year mother fuckers to chant "Kali Ma!!!" while you take a big bite out of my heart like so many other people have in the past. If you are not prepared to go that far,then why don't you just STEP OFF CUPCAKE!!!"

"Oh, I would also like the Foi Gras, the Casolette with a bottle of the '01 cab and Creme Brule for dessert. Thanks"

I have decided that I am going to start promoting Fuck-you -fuckers day on February 13th. We could even have a fuck you fuckers picnic. We could have music. Love hurts, Love Stinks and What it Takes could be in heavy rotation. Since it will all be singles maybe we could get the drinks flowing early and the lights low later and all get busy. We could dirty dance. Real dirty dancing. Not run down the aisle and lift each other into the air ala' Jennifer Grey while Bill Meldley sings in the background. Maybe we will all walk out of there with a partner to love for a lifetime that evening.

Me? I won't be attending, but I will do the legwork. What is it that I want? Not just another piece. I don't think any of us just want another piece. Some of us fall into love like a drug. It's the best drug. The one that we would all smack a million veins for. We get off of our high, and then we crash, or we just try to find another supplier real quick once our regular source is gone. We wait a month, maybe two. Then we meet someone. We go out take the time and then voila, back on the superhighway to relationshipville, yet we have totally missed the most important thing. The relationship with ourselves. Plus, half of the love junkies still think about the old highs all the time.

I'm going to be home during any singles events, sitting maxin' relaxin all cool. Watching something on television like fucking pairs figure skating or some other non-sport.

Bottom line is. Fuck this day. It's like any other. Serves to hurt the people who deserve to be happiest and is a bullshit excuse for those in unhappy relationships to express love.

Those of you who have that moment, have that feeling of laying next to the person you love, I applaud you. Remember the smell of their skin, trace the lines of their body with your mind, feel the movement of their breath against you and embrace the moment. Do that every day. Give your lover a movie star kiss when you see them. Take a moment to find out, really find out, how their day was. Make a meal together and tell your lover a silly joke. Make them laugh. Run like children, be goofy, scream at the stars and sigh at the dawn and dance in the middle of the street like nobody else exists. Look into each others eyes and remove all of your walls all your fears. KNOW the person you are with and don't be afraid to tough it out. It is worth it.

For the rest of us there is Blockbuster, internet porn and old friend alcohol
(sweet, sweet let you forget all the problems alcohol), until we join the happy assholes right? Maybe not.

For years I have said the following. When you're in a relationship, you think "Man... if I was single I would be getting it all the time". When you are single you think "Man... if I were in a relationship, I'd be getting it all the time." Not that sex is any great barometer of love, I just think the analogy works this time for my needs.

Point is the grass is always greener. Mow your lawn on this day......just like any other.

And finally, here it is. A video message that all singles out there can appreciate for Valentines day. I dug deep for this one. Trying to tap in to the core of what love can feel like. I hope you like my voice....I really belted this one out.

Getting on track

BE SURE TO CHECK BACK ON VALENTINES DAY FOR A VERY SPECIAL WELL-IN-DOWD VIDEO VALENTINES MESSAGE!


What is that I want out of life? At different times it's been different things. As a kid, I think I just wanted the kids at school to be nice to me. In middle school, I wanted comic books on Fridays and later on some music. Actually, I also recall wanting to not have to travel an hour to school on the bus. In High School, I wanted some girls to like me, and to be a rockstar. After that, I just wanted different things at all times. I suppose what I really meant by that initial question is "what do I want in my romantic life?".

For me, the two have been combined for ages. Relationship=life and happiness. Right now, I am looking at my first single guy Valentines day in years. I was never a big fan of the holiday. I truly believe that if you are doing things right, it is completely unnecessary. You shouldn't need a day for flowers. Hell, you shouldn't even need a reason for flowers. No flowers after the night of passion, certainly never after a fight or a fuck up (I would be broke if I had given my ex's flowers after fuck ups) and none on the special hallmark wrapped holidays that we are all supposed to get caught up in. Like to give flowers, gifts? Give them to your loved one. My personal rule is to give flowers/gifts when you can't remember the last time you did.

With that ramble complete, I am quite happy not to partake in the whole shebang this year. I am looking at me, a bottle of wine, my new book and my pussy repellent bat spray growing on my face. I don't need anyone and am actually glad that I am not in that position most days. Given the choices that I have had, how my major relationships ended, and what those endings have required of me, I am glad to be single.

Good god, if I were to rewind to years past, I definitely know that I am better off. It's not that those relationships, or the people I was in them with were bad. So many bad choices. Selfishness, fear, arrogance, deception, and self loathing have no place in a relationship that will hold any water. I still miss some of those people daily. Some on a monthly basis. Some, I find myself tortured with dreams over. Sometimes, I wake up with in the morning, noticing that I have shifted in the night from the middle to the right side of the bed, leaving the left open for my partner, and reach over only to realize that they are no longer there and never will be again. Some people in particular I have been really pining for lately. I have had to fight the urge to reach out more, to call and say what I really think.I have to beat that shit back into submission like Ali on Liston. It's me time, but I'll be damned if I don't miss those people like the world was ending during some moments.

Like they always say, it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. I suppose that's true. I just wish that losing didn't suck such tremendous big donkey dick. I wish I could just release the doves I held in my hand and let them fly out of sight, only to exist as a memory furthermore. I have an aching tendancy to want to get into my truck and speed up to watch the dove's flight towards the horizon.

I tuned in and watched Rachel and Brian exchange wedding vows today. I'm very happy for Rae. She is a great friend. I am really happy that she and Brian (her beau) got hitched. I believe this is Rachel's 7th wedding. As they say...lucky 7. Just kidding. A little background...Rae and Brian were H.S. sweethearts and hadn't spoken in ten years (I may be wrong about that).Rae happened to be home sometime last year and picked up the phone at her mom's house and who was it? That's right, Brian.

Today, they were married.I would post a link to the wedding video (yeah, they arranged for it to be webcast, so all their friends and family could watch) but I thought that I should ask before I do so. In their case, loving and losing finally turned out a win for two people whom, I assume, never thought they would speak again.

Either way, it was wonderful. The pastor, or whatever he was, talked about the meaning of marriage and how important it is to give of yourself. Sigh. Got me all verklempt. At least it would have if I were not a man...we dont get emotional. I am like a Vulcan on thorazine. It's amazing.

So that is what got me thinking about relationships and what they are all about. I will be damned if I really know. I do know that I want a good one some day. Someone who I love and trust. Someone who gives themselves fully to me. Who I am unafraid to be myself around. Who is willing to forgive my failings as easily as I forgive theirs. Who won't abandon me when I need them most, but will become a rock for me to hold on to. Someone whose wit astounds me, whose laugh elates me and whose nose wrinkles just a little bit when they do it.

If anyone of you who happens to read this little online journal of mine happens to have this person next to you now...hold on to them, don't fuck it up. You will regret it and will deserve everything that comes your way. Don't fuck up. Hearts are precious. Work through the hurts, communicate, don't ever go to bed angry and don't get going when the going gets tough. Dig in. The ride won't be easy, but the end resultwill be wonderful.

So to all of you lovers out there, HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!

To the lovers seeking lovers, may you have a great Tuesday when it comes. That's all it is.

For everyone, may your days be filled with happiness, your heart full of joy,your life free of old patterns and may love be coming for you like a frieght train around the bend...try not to jump off the tracks.

Penny for my thoughts

Reading the post about Geoffy and me made me think about another "Brush with fame" I once had.

This also took place at my once and former place of employment. I was working at this point in an office. My duties took me to one of the departments. A guy I worked with managed one of the departments and I went down to speak to him about something.

So I get down to the first floor and I am looking around for Harvey (the guy I was supposed to speak to) and I can't find him anywhere.I turn around and coming around the corner at was the woman below.......


Unfortunately she wasn't wearing the outfit above. She was wearing a skin tight whit mini dress. This was the only time in my young life that I have felt like I was living a beer commercial. This goddess of a woman (standing six foot tall at least in her heels, and smoking hot) was walking towards me. Looking right at me, come hither look in her eyes. I am pretty damn sure that "Dream Weaver" was playing somewhere in the background. If she had an icy cold St. Pauli girl in her hand at that moment, life would have been perfect.

While Penny (as I later found out to be her name) and I were sharing our moment, thinking about our life together, our kids and all of the heroic, acrobatic, mind bending earth shattering sex that we were going to be sharing shortly, I got jabbed in the ribs.

Like a mental patient on a thorazine high,I blankly looked to my left and down.It was Harvey. Short, rough on the eyes, straight to the point to a fault Harvey. The little bastard who was getting in the way of my moment with Penny said "She's not looking for you big guy." I'm guessing that he had noticed the deer in the headlights look that had on my face and the copious amount of drool accumulating at my feet.I said "wha......?" as I had been so rudely snapped out of my daze. He then said "she's with him......."




That's right. Rod! The Stew-man! Mr. Ifyouwantmybodyandyouthinkimsexy himself. Standing there right behind me....waiting to steal my woman! Not only was the dude standing there, but he was dressed like Rod Stewart. The pic above does not do justice to how he looked. I always figured that stars like to go sort of incognito to places. They don't want to be recognized. Claire Danes used to come in with sunglasses and a hat. Same with others. Not Rod. Dud is too cool for school. He was dressed in white leather cowboy boots, white leather pants, a big white rockstar puffy shirt, the hair spiked up and the "Rod Stewart" sunglasses on. Amazing.

I guess in conclusion, I really don't have to much to write about right now. I just thought that was a funny story. No lessons to be learned from Rod, no wise words that made me think. Just the fact that rockstars get really hot chicks. I wish Rod had something like that to me. "You know....we rock stars....we f#%k the world differently"

Later

Geoff and me

I call him Geoff because we have met twice. He wouldn't remember.Geoffery Holder is one of the most amazing men I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I have met him twice. Both times by virtue of the places I was working at the time.

First time, I was working at a place on Canal st. in lower Manahattan. I was doing a paper making demonstration on the steps of the place.



Paper making is a very easy process. I was using the Pour Method, which you can read more about here.

Most of you will remember Geoffy (we have met twice folks, I don't think I am out of line refering to him in the familiar) from his turn in the James Bond films, or from the movie "Annie" as well as being the "Crystal clean and no caffine" 7-up pitchman from the late seventies or early eighties.

Anywho, here I am making paper and I hear this wonderful, deep, commanding voice say "That is very good...." . I started on my sales pitch and turned and then noticed who it was on the other side of that wonderful voice.

Geoffrey is an imposing man. Stands at least 6'7". Anyone who I need to look up to is fucking freakishly tall. I said "Hey, you're that guy!" or something equally stupid. We talked for a bit and I think he may have purchased one of Arnold's wonderful papermaking kits.

Fast forward a few years. (This is the real story behind this post and I swear it will not translate to blogish that well. YOU MUST HEAR GEOFF"S VOICE IN YOUR HEAS AS YOU READ THIS) I was working at a place in Soho. I was standing on the steps of the apartment building next door and who hobbles up, cane supporting his massive frame, but Punjab himself.

He looks at me and says "Hello" I said "Hello Mr. Holder". He jerked his head back inquisitivley and says "Have we met before?" I said "Once, I was making paper on the steps of the place I used to work. You bought a kit" He sort of nodded his head and asked "Are you an artist?" I thought about it for a second. At the time I was not doing any artwork of any type. I looked him in the eye and said "Yes. Yes I am" (Cause like it or not folks, I am) . He replied, in the coolest fucking way possible, with that wonderful intonation. "Gooooood. Gooood. Don't ever stop working. We artists......we see the world differently" When he said the "we artists" part, he raised his massive hand to his temple and flitted his fingers up into the air while explaining that we saw things different. I was in awe! Just cool!

Here's a toast to all of you who see things differently. Who have always felt different. Who have always felt out of place in a room ful of scientists. Who are true artists, no matter what you do for a living.

Magnetic North

I was thinking about you today.
Wondering what the moment was.
Where was it?
When was it?
Could things have happened differently?

I am sure that they could have some days.
Other days I think it was unavoidable,
that our future was set from the beginning.

I have a few regrets in this life.
You are not one of them, never will be.

I want to talk, spill my true feelings,
lay them on the floor like so many CD's in my collection,
let you help me pick a new song.


I always have had a hard time picking,
finding any path to walk.
I thought you were a wonderful direction.

I'm becoming my own magnetic north now,
but my compass is yearning for the old days,
smiles
laughter
ease
calm
grounding

I was thinking about you today.
I hope this direction is true.

Robin, hand me the pussy repellent Bat-spray!

Congrats to Mr. Big-chin Bill Cowher and his Super Bowl Champion Pittsburgh Steelers. Ten Years ago I was living in the 'burgh when the team went to the bowl. Pretty cool to see them win tonight. Let me tell you, it is a great night in Steel town. Ten years ago when the Steelers lost, that town was ridiculously upset. There was not a happy face in the town the next day.Pretty awful shit.

Me, I am still waiting to win my championship. Unfortunately, my team is in a rebuilding phase. Need a lot of things to fall into place before I can lift the trophy. I'm not so much talking about the Jets, who suck, and football here, but about my life and myself.

If you had only asked me in the fall what it took to make me happy, what I wanted, who I wanted those things with, I would have been able to tell you with little hesitation. X.Y.Z. there you have it. Nuff Said.

Now, I am not so sure. I am pretty sure that I have spent the last couple months floundering through the swimming pool full of pudding that has been my life. Not only that, but my answer in the fall would have been dead wrong.

I have been down. Nothing new...I've been down before.I know it never lasts with me. Every time I get down, life has a way of placing something new under my nose to keep me from being there too long. Hell, I haven't spent a real week without the prospect of love and affection in two plus years and then another 8 years before that. That doesn't make things good though.

What is it about me, women and relationships that gets me to this point? I get outstanding offers with pretty good regularity as far as the opposite sex is concerned. For the first time in my life I am totally not interested. Well...not totally. I am a guy.The urge is still there. Just the need is not.

With that said, I have decided to grow a beard. I am sure this will act like Pussy repellent Bat-Spray which Adam West would have used on Eartha Kitt.

Now many of you might say "Tom, you don't need to grow a beard, just be yourself, that is pussy repellent enough." NAY I say! I am going to grow a beard, live like a hermit and have Lynch paint me as a pharaoh with a feather for a penis. This is actually happening folks. If it were anyone but Lynch, and you would understand if you met him, painting it, I would be offended. Lynch actually put it as "An arrogant pharaoh with a feather for a penis". Lynch is the litmus. Can you hang? He could be thirty, could be ninety, could be homelss, but he's not. He's Lynch.

In other artistic endeavors, I have been writing a whole hell of a lot. Mainly songs for a CD I am hoping to record this year. Been trying to write one complete song per week. Being that I have a whole lot of pain to tap into, and that nothing gets me writing like heartache and unrequited love, it's been going very well.

Lastly, I am now art. My friend David is an incredible video artist. He directed and edited the television commercials I was in late last year. He invited me to take part in a piece that he is creating called "Danger Music". It's a tribute to Dick Higgins. The piece that I am in is called "Danger Music #2". Rae has a chance to go see this piece , as it is currently showing in Nebraska (whose motto I believe is "More popular, with more happening, than Wyoming") at the Bemis Gallery. The piece got a cool write up here. It is intense and will be showing in it entirety in NC next month.I invite everyone to visit Rachel's Blog, wish her congratulations on her pending nuptials and tell her to go see the show.

With that said, I am going to try to use my new digital camera to record my beard progress.Be warned though, I usual get about aweek into this process when I hate the beard and shave it off. Have a great day all! I have Monday off!

If I'm really comfortable with you, you get one.

Li-Li, Joey, Nic, Dave, Pig, Johnny, Kel, Ladybug, Kel (one guy Kel, one girl Kel), Stewie, Bobert, Dougie, Krissy (two of them, both women) , Gee, Jeffy(gotta call him), Mikey, Yoadrienne, Shantelawitz, Smiley,Avril,Meggers, Jay.

What are those? Those are the names of my close friends and people whom I am comfortable with. It's something that I do. If I like you. REALLY like you. You get a pet name. I do this with everyone I care about and everyone that I love.

The list of people whom have gotten names from me could go on for a while. There is not one person who I have cared about in my adult life that has not recieved a nickname from me.

I don't know if I have a real point here. Just food for thought.

People call me Tom, or Tommy. For the record, the only cool nickname I ever had was Rhino. I always wanted a cooler one. M.I.A. came close, but that was one my friends used briefly because of my penchant for dissapearing all the time.

Okay, point. I love big and become intimate with the important people in my life. Someone once said to me that they loved that. The fact that I did that without thinking and that I nicknamed them in a way that few had. I don't know if it is good, or bad, it just is. I want to give more people nicknames and want less people to give them back.