See, What Happened Was...

So it looks like I have to answer some questions. That's cool. I'm eager to please. Anything... for a lady. The delay in answering comes mainly from an intense lack of desire to post. But here I am, and your questions are hereby answered. But keep in mind curiosity killed the cat. Or, more accurately, that grain thresher with the shiny thing in it did, but let's not discount curiosity's important role in this.

What was I talking about? I don't know.

Here are the questions posed at me by your freind and mine, Sex Scenes At Starbucks:

Jack:
1. Hands down best sexual experience. (Details, man. We want details.)
2. What sort of betrayal warrants divorce? What's the worst thing you would forgive a significant other?
3. Do you keep up with current events? Favorite source?
4. What is your most unconventional quality?
5. Name three goals for your life (and how you'll achieve them) that have nothing to do with career or money or other people.

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1. Hands down best sexual experience. (Details, man. We want details.)

- Alrighty. Anyone who doesn't want to hear the answer to this I suggest you stop reading and move on to the next question.

Anyone still here? Ok.

I think my best sexual experience had to be when my girlfreind came up to visit me here in Chicago for the first time. It was a long, lonely and sexless time here in my drab, gray (not sure which one is the British spelling; not sure if I care) dorm room. A good 2 months or so alone... It was the longest time without sex I'd ever gone since I lost my virginity. I was bottled up and lonely and missed the girlfreind desperately. It was very hard being alone, and a lack of sex was certainly not helping things much. Then came news of the girlfreind coming to visit me for the weekend. I was ecstatic. The weekend was the best sex I've ever had. We were doing it constantly. Somehow, I guess my roommate got the clue and left the room for the majority of the weekend. The feeling of being with someone again, being able to touch them and feel close to them, warmed my soul like hot chocolate. Everything felt right again. Back home, we hardly got the chance to have a place to ourselves. Here... Ha ha ha ha!!! We felt little to no regard for the people on either side of us, nor below. Thank god those bedsprings were well-built, because we easily could have busted through to the floor. We yelled loud enough to echo through the walls. Volume was no matter to us; rarely did we get the chance to explode in animal lust, but we used this opportunity to let our natural sexual instincts take over. My sheets were pretty destroyed by the end of the weekend, but, considering all we did to them, they actually held their own. We exhausted most positions, as well as our ability to breathe. All in all, a time that will stay with me forever as an amazingly beautiful experience of reuniting, togetherness, love, and, most of all, insanly hot sex.

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2. What sort of betrayal warrants divorce? What's the worst thing you would forgive a significant other?

- I tend to forgive and forget pretty easily. If Oprah has taught us anything... But this is based on the fact that signifigant others tend not to do anything remarkably drastic in the first place. I don't know what the worst thing I'd forgive would be, because I don't know really what is unforgivable. I'm a pretty easy going feller; I tend to let things slide. But as far as divorce goes, any betrayal that represents a loss of love would warrant divorce. Once the love is gone, what's the point? What that thing may be is unknown to me, but if the time comes I'd know.

I typically take things as they come and don't think now what my reaction could potentially be. This is why I hate when little kids/people who still act like little kids ask things like "What if I were to punch you in the jaw right now? Huh? What would you do?" What would I do? Fuck off, punk. Why would you even ask that? What the hell? I don't know what I'd do off-hand, but trust me when I say you'll wish you hadn't done that.

Anyway, sorry, you know my deep-seated love affair with tangents.

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3. Do you keep up with current events? Favorite source?

- Not as much as I probably should. My favorite sources are The Onion and The Daily Show, just like everybody else.

Actually, I guess I get a lot of it from friends who keep up with the news or I randomly stumble across it on the internet. The little sidebar on the side (where else?) of the Hotmail Inbox helps keep me afloat in the sea of bullshit news and how to keep my man happy (Guys love girls who love sports! Play hard to get! Tickle his testicles with a rock!). So, basically, no, I don't keep up with current events. They'd just make me more angry. Grr.

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4. What is your most unconventional quality?

- I tend to act on impulse. All the time. A lot of people have the urge to do really odd things for no apparant reason, but most seem to hold back. I hardly ever do so. Thankfully, most of my impulses are not to lick tires or stab old ladies in the heart, but rather silly, childish forays into the absurd. I kick things. I pee on places that seem like they ought to be peed on. I make castles out of condiments. I stick my shirt over the fan and pretend I have a huge belly. I care not for who's around to see me do these stupid things. Societal mandates never meant that much to me; it's a plus because I'm an individual but it's a minus because I never hold in a fart, no matter how dead of a cow it smells like.

I also tend to think in great detail about things that really should not be thought about in the first place. The stairs that lead from my floor to the lobby are ordered in a very specific way. Each flight is an even number of stairs, except for the two flights leading from 2nd floor to the last flight. The last flight is even, but has 2 more stairs than every other flight. The two odds have 1 extra. This means the quickest way to bound down these stairs is to run down them, skipping every second stair, but starting on the first stair on the odd flights. This took many stair-hopping sessions to figure out all the intricate details involved, but now I can slam them stairs in two seconds flat. Now I'm working on figuring out the elusive stairs in the student center, which appear to be very random and placement and will take some time to accurately decipher.

Now why in the hell did I even think about any of that? I don't know. Pass the time, maybe, or maybe I'm deeply interested in the insignifigance of life. If I spent that much thought, time and effort on something productive, maybe I'd be a functional human being with prospects and a future. But it looks like it's too late for that.

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5. Name three goals for your life (and how you'll achieve them) that have nothing to do with career or money or other people.

- 1. Beat Krusty's Super Funhouse for Sega Genesis.

This game has stuck in my craw forever. I played this as a child constantly and have never been able to figure it out. I got to the final stage, though only because I accidentally guessed the password (SIDESHOW. How fucking obvious is that?). I really, really want to see what happens when you win and all the rats are exterminated... Even if it's unbelievably lame and not worth the trouble, at least that chapter in my life will be closed. I'll be able to finally sleep well at night, and those haunting dreams of smiling, chattering demonic rats will discontinue their reign on my brain. I plan to do this by ignoring other obligations and people and focus solely on the game until it is finally completed. This is certainly not about bragging rights, as no one has even heard of this game. It's strictly about closing the door on another piece of unfinished business in the life of Jack.

- 2. Be able to play several different instruments equally well.

I currently play guitar. I am self-taught, without a lesson in my life, and, considering, I think I'm pretty damn good (even though occassionally when I get drunk I switch into "self-doubt" mode and rattle off things like "I suck at the guitar" and "I'm unattractive"). I can hold my own on a drum set, and am better at piano than your average Joe. But I want to do it all. Any instrument you hand me I want to be able to rock a beat so phat you'll drop your drawers and sit on my lap out of pure instinct. Even those crazy-ass Dr. Suess-type instruments that don't make any god damn sense when you look at them. I really want to play accordian, be mad proficient at piano, rock the sitar, jangle on the ol' banjo, even play giant tube things like I was covered in blue paint or something. I want to kick Stomp's ass. I want my mindless rapping of my knuckles on the desk to inspire future generations to make a name for themselves tapping incoherent beats onto atypical surfaces. I don't even care if I wind up making a career out of it; I just want the talent. I think it'd be sweet, and the ladies would love me. How do I go about achieving this? The same way I've achieved my moderate skill on any other instrument: Pick it up, mess with it for a while, and eventually become a God. Or I could get a genie. Them's fuckers is nice.

- 3. Finally feel completely happy with myself.

I have always, and potentially will always, had a tinge of self-doubt in everything I do. I have poor self-esteem, though I tend to not let it get in my way. It's actually not terribly bad: I am confident in most of my abilities, I think I'm good at many things, and I think suicide and self-mutilation is for pussies. But I think what I have is less a depression as it is a case of extreme humility. It's better to hate yourself too much than to love yourself too much. I have very little semblance of ego, which may aid in my occasional dislike for myself. It's always really stupid unwarranted reasoning, and most people tell me just to shut up when I bring it up. Good. They should. It is dumb of me to feel this way. I'm so dumb... God, why can't I do anything right???? Ha, just kidding. 4 question marks ought to tell you I'm just pulling your dick. I get bummed out on myself sometimes, as I'm sure we all do, and the way to help this and to feel confidence in oneself is to immerse oneself in things they love and things that love them. Reminders of why the world is actually a wonderful place underneath all the shit we have to put up with are the key to happiness, I feel. I achieve this often, and it'd be nice to finally get to a state of mind where I can be reminded of the world being a wonderful place all the time. I think I need an angel to come slap me around a little bit like in It's A Wonderful Life.

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And there you have it. I suppose to keep the proverbial ball proverbially rolling, I'll have to ask ya'll some questions, though literally this time, not proverbially. If you'd like me to ask you questions, leave a comment in the box and I'll ignore it for 2 weeks and then ask you some. Cheerio and pip pip, have a rollicking day.