Yeah, cheesey I know. But hey, it's true. I have been away for a long time. Over a year it would seem. I just kind of lost interest for awhile. Didn't really feel like talking about stuff. Recently however, I've felt a need to communicate stuffs that go on because well... most of the time I don't really have anyone to talk about it to. Most people really don't give a damn. I just needed to say it. I needed to explain things and talk about stuff that I do without asshole comments from people. I just needed to talk. Not to anyone, but just talk. To express myself. It was then that I remember, hey, I have a blog. I can post shit in it. I can bitch about stuff and I can talk about my car escapades and romantic problems and all that jazz. Maybe people will read it and say junk, maybe they wont. But I don't really care. I need to say shit. So I'll say it here. 

So, what's been going on between now and the last time I posted? Sadly not as much as I would have hoped. I guess I'll start with the basics. In Febuary of lovely (yeah right...) 2007, I got me a job. I now work for the great and wonderful United Parcel Service. That's right, UPS. It but the whole mail system into perspective for me. I get to see how stuff gets from one place to another and how damages occur and all that junk. I work in the Parcel Sea in the north core of the World Port facility. Biggest UPS in the US if I remember correctly. We're like the clean up crew of boxes. If it's busted, has a screwed up label or you were fucking dumb ass and didn't label it right, we get it. 
Before I continue, please, if anyone reads this, for christ's sake, label your box right. It'll have a better chance at getting to your house in one peice if you do. Put one, count them, ONE label on your box. Put it on a flat side, don't put it wrapped around a corner or over the seam or some crap. Don't tape over it, and for the love of all that is holy, don't use the same damn box over and over.
That being said, our job is to fix and relable these poor bad boxes so that they get to their destination on time. It's not as easy as it sounds. You have to run between 3 computer lined up along a massive metal slide that constantly fills with hundreds of boxes ranging in size and weight from tiny to gigantic. I also run irreg's or irregulars. Those are boxes that are just totaly beyond our capabilites. They're too big, too heavy, roll, whatever. We're not supposed to get them. So I get to pull them off the overflow loop (which collects all the crap we don't have room for anywhere else) and drive them back to the irreg section. It's a pretty tough job but I like it. It's more physical and takes up a good amount of time. Makes the day go by faster and works out the muscles. So yeah, that's pretty much it. Boxes and more boxes. Fun. I make money, so I don't care.

Along with this new job, came a new car. I was driving my uncle's car for awhile until I caught this totaly awesome movie. Grindhouse. The totaly rocking double feature of Planet Terror and Death Proof. Well, I love Death Proof. It's either a love it or hate it film and I love it. It doesn't get enough love I think but then, with all the instant gratification and cheap thrills modern society thrives on, I can see why not so many people like it. Anyway, this movie features an awesome primer grey 1970 Chevy Nova. Skull and lightning bolts on the hood along with the duck hood ornament from that old movie Convoy (never seen it personaly). Total bad ass car. I wanted one. So I found one. On ebay no less. It was local enough that we could pick it up. So, I got it. Sniped the auction. One bid win. What exactly did I win? A black 1972 Chevy Nova 2 door. It's automatic with a 350 V8. Sweet looking car. Needs a new paint job and is constantly requiring fixing of some kind, but hey its a bad ass vehicle. Not to mention loud. Flow Master exhaust pipes on this baby. Blows craters into a gravel drive way and if your standing outside the car you can feel each stroke of the engine as a thump throughout your entire body. It's freaking loud. I quite like it. 
I had originaly planned to turn it into the Death Proof car. I actualy had a chance to bid on that car, the Hero car from the movie,  but there was no way it would have gone good. As an intersting note, I had posted about it on a movie prop forum. Somebody there then contacted me and asked about the auction. I linked him and he bought it and we talked about it for a bit. Seemed like a pretty cool dude, I'd like to meet him and check out the car someday. Anyway, I had planned on turning my black machine into the Death Proof car. But, I can't do that. I like the car too much. I want to keep it stock and restore it to near factory condition some day. So, I'm on the lookout for a junker Nova. I have big plans for it too. Not just a shitty replica, but a full blow drag car as well. Grey Primer paint job, skull, duck, full roll cage and some non-replica mods. Gonna' slap a 572 Chevy engine in it. Full gauge set from autometer, two racing seats, a B&M automatic quick shifter, JEG's traction bars, JAZ fuel cell with roll over vavles, optima battery, glass pack exhaust, CD player of coarse, etc. It'll be a total freaking beast when it's done. It'll pull around 650 horepower at the wheels or so. More than enough to beat any Camaro, Corvette or Rice burner that I might encounter in my travels hands down.

Now, onto the romantic ascpet. Well... thats nothing. Not a damn thing going on there. Well, aside from this kid named Taylor. Oh the grief he causes me. He's short, sounds really cute, and he's really sweet and nice. Everything I'm looking for. Only two problems. One, he's hard as hell to get ahold of so I end up playing message tag with him most of the time. Two, he already has a boyfriend. So, aside from hoping mean things or plotting murder, he's out of my reach. So right now I'm just trying to be friends with him. God knows I need more friends to hang out with. Maybe I can turn something out of relativly nothing here. Or at least, that's my hope. If he ever talks to me that is.

So yeah, thats about it. Aside from that, I've developed a taste for emo music. My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy... stuff like that. I like the sound for some reason. Guess my ears got tired off all that hard ass rock I listened to.

Well, enough talking for now. I'll babbled for quite awhile. I shall continue maybe, it's refreshing. Adios till later folks.