Grandpa

My Grandpa died last week. So I thought this would be a good time to talk about my ideas on death. First of all my Grandpa's name was Linus Beck. I've never even heard of anyone else named Linus in my whole life. Except for peanuts. Peanuts and my Grandpa. Thats it. He died at the age of 96. Can you imagine being 96? He died peacefully of plain old age. He oly had a few moments of hysteria the last couple days. He would see dogs and things in his room that were not there. From what I hear, he would then ask you if you saw it and when you said no he would start laughing.

As a side note. My Grandpa was married for many many years to my grandma, Jessie. She died over ten years ago (see how I am skating around specifics). A few years after her deatch my Grandpa got him self an old girldfriend. Her name was Audrie and she has never shut up once since I have known her. But, my grandpa enjoyed her company and that is all that mattered. A few days before my grandpa died my Aunt Patty asked hime if he was ready to go be with grandma. My grandpa yelled out "NO" I want to go see Audrey. So I bet grandma kicked Linus right in the balls whenever they met up again.

I am under the impression that whatever happens after we die it is better than here. I am quite confident that my grandpa doesn't have to have help wiping his butt now that he is gone. Maybe he doesn't even have to be incovienienced by using his butt at all. As soon as I tell someone he has died, I get the same response. "I'm Sorry". I understand the need to mourn someones loss, especially if it is sudden. But, If you believe that after death is better than life then would you say "Sorry" If someone told you their grandpa just went to the Bahamas? I think this business about being freaked out over death and about death is way out of control. It is the ONLY thing in life guaranteed to happen and it is the SINGLE most feared thing on this planet. To be horribly upset when someone dies is only to be selfish. You are mourning the fact that you will not have their company anymore. Be happy for people when they die or at least do me the favor of being happy for me when I do. Cause I am haunting

Olympic Games 2008

First of all, many thanks to the two people who have visited my Blog. I really appreciate all of your degrading comments and what not. I have not had the time to write a lengthy entry because I do not have A) A computer or B) a high speed connection. When I have the time I will make my blog more appeasing to the eye for those of you who are professional mini horse photographers and have a need for that sort of thing.

This is a simple entry to let everyone know an update on my training for the U.S. Olympic water polo team to compete in 2008. Maybe in New York if we find Bin Laden. My fat ass ran a mile and a half the past two days in a row. I am averaging 13 minute miles. Also, my raquetball record is now 42 - 13 (That is total points scored). Mine is the 13. I have a match tonight so this score will hopefully be updated tomorrow. My best wishes to all.

Fucking Motherfuckers

Ladies and gentelemen, I have created a blog. I have decided on the title "Fucking Motherfuckers" simply to let everyone know that words like this will appear on this page. If anyone can show me in any "holy" text that is recognized by ANY major church where I cannot say "fucking motherfuckers", I will refrain. Until then I really want you to be prepared for some cussing, distatsteful humor, and a real "mans man" page. Now on to my first entry.....

Why do I cry, or almost cry, all of the time?

I would have to say that It is more so "almost cry" than it is cry. Man I am using "quotations" a "lot". I swear to Jesus that I will turn on the Oprah show and end up fighting back tears because Barbara gets treated like garbage by her husband. I will also get emotional at the climax of any romantic comedy. The funny thing is, well not so funny thing is, that I will watch a documentary on some African country that is running out of water and not get nearly as emotional. I think that I am probably like a woman in this regard. But what worries me more than being like a woman is how I have been tricked into caring about fake stories more so than real ones. Does anyone know who the fucking motherfuckers are who are respnsible?