Blogger's mobile ap is for crap.
I'm going back to tumblr just for convenience.
Come see me..
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Murphy knocked one of my lower canine teeth loose and exposed the nerve by cracking it while wrestling on the floor the other day. My dentist says that I will have to get it repaired but he can not do it till the 19th. His method of fixing it till then.... two Vicodin and a horse pill of an antibiotic every six hours.


 As much as I hate my dentist and wish horrible things upon him, these are really nice pills. 

Can't sleep and felt like telling a story.

I always tell a story about how good I am. How about one of my low points.
 I was living in Athens on Tallassee Rd, I started dating my ex-neighbor for a while. Let's call her Jenny, since I really can't remember her real name. She had just divorced her husband, who still lived next door, and was living on the other side of town. One night we had a stupid inconsequential argument about how I didn't want to get stoned or something like that. Anyway, we kept the argument going so long that Denise, my roommate at the time, came out to ask us to stop where she could sleep. Jenny left the apartment with a huff instead of finishing.
The next day was the first day back from Spring break and I was extremely busy with school and work. So much so that she didn't come to my mind at all. I just sank myself back into my scholastic work as I usually did/do. Twelve days later, I got a call from Vernen at Jittery Joe's asking me if me and my girlfriend would like to come to his art showing the next night. As he talked, I suddenly realized that Jenny existed. It was exactly like putting a pizza into the oven and then getting sidetracked with something while forgetting about it until you smell smoke bellowing out of the kitchen.
Anyway, I called her that night. She was upset that I was giving her the silent treatment since classes had started. Her girlfriends had convinced her that I was the one that needed to call first. What I didn't tell her was that she was the only one playing that game.
I am not too sure as to what that says about me.

I saw a piece in the Army/Navy News online about a 84 year old WW2 sniper, who while visiting Ft. Benning's new memorial, shot a 5 inch grouping at 1000 yds unaided by the Army Marksman Unit members around him. That article reminded me of the last time my Grandfather and I had a chance to spend time together at the deer land before he became too sick to come with us anymore.

A little about my grandfather, I'll keep it quick. Before he left the Army for an administrative job at the Blue Bell plant in Commerce, he had a very successful career as a squad leader. His was assigned as his unit's designated marksman during WW2 in the European theater and eventually went on to teach marksman ship at Camp Toccoa here in Ga. I remember him telling me that the only reason that he had fought for the position was because of the extra pay.He and I would sit up at night while I was living with them for a while when my parents were working on a problem. We would sit at the kitchen table late into the night, he would sit and smoke his Winston 100's while drinking coffee as I would do my homework and drink home made cherry cokes. This was the man that really taught me to shoot. He taught me a great deal more. Some nights when he and my father were drinking, he would sometimes slip up while talking me to and call me David. I know it was a simple mistake, but it made me feel good at the time that he thought of me as if I were his son. 

The last time we were together in the field, I was 13. We were shooting my .22 rifle that I had gotten for Christmas. He had set up a series of targets ranging from 50 to 200 yards down the power line clearing which passed through the hunting land we were renting at the time.  He had brought out some lumber and build a bench for the group to sight in their rifles sometime in the past couple weeks.  He set up next to me on the firing line and as I started getting set up, he was puttering around behind me just watching me to make sure that I was being safe and doing everything correctly. Finally when he was ready, he sat down, looked through the scope, took a breath, and took a shot. He looked through the spotting scope then started packing up his rifle. I asked him if everything is okay and what was wrong. He told me that he was done and that he was just going to watch me. "I'm good. I just wanted to watch you shoot for a while. Let me know when you want to go check the targets." 

As we went down the lane a little while later to change the targets out, I grabbed mine off of the stakes and walked through the weeds over to retrieve his where he didn't have to negotiate the brush again. On the 200 yard range target, the only one he had shot, there was a single tiny hole about a half inch above and just to the left of the X. I looked back at him on the three wheeler, he was just smiling from ear to ear at me. 

I miss the hell out of him. 

Good night and sweet dreams. 

Where ever you are. 

I didn't want to just disappear as I had previously planned.

You deserve more than that. You deserve so much more. 

So I would like to just leave this here, not as a good bye. but as a, remember me. 

As I have done, ever since I first laid eyes upon you and fell head over heels for you, I await patiently and ever hopeful that someday you 

I will always be there.