Hello, everyone; My name is Robert. I was born a Leo on August 4th, 1983 at exactly 3:30 PM, my favorite colors are red and white and despite all of the crazy stories I’ve shared with you in the six months we’ve been together (quite stellar and I thank you for making it so special) this week has made me realize that I do have some sort of morals, as grayish as they are, and that even though I’m saturated by a lot of things (which you find out and laugh about on this site on a regular basis) I still have a heart and he’s decided to manifest himself these past few days in the forms of ridiculous amounts of beer, nature walks, reading, strippers and lastly, a trip to the interior. I know that a large part of my audience is people I know and share experiences with so this particular story will ring even more true, and those of you who I’ve had the pleasure to meet as a result of this here project of mine will know the kind of person I am a little better, which can be summed up like this:

Not short of 10 minutes ago, I was sitting on my toilet. I only wear boxers when I sleep and I woke up about an hour ago wanting to use the facilities. So, said bokers are on my ankles and I’m holding on to a shower towel since I feel that the turd is shitting me out and not vice versa when I remember the stuff that happend last night and I laugh, making the “shit operation” that much more manageable. A hole in one; I still can’t believe last night happened, and particularly I don’t know what to think other than the fact that some people might think I’m uneblievable (not in the good way, anyway. I certainly think that.

I told the girl I’ve been in love with for 6 years what I just told you 13 words ago and what do I do right afterwards? Take her and her friends to a strip club and cause the nicest person in the party purchase a lap dance. Good to know that I can be a sitting duck like that and still manage to be in my gray area.It’s bad enough that I’ve got the girl sitting right beside me while some hot Colombian chick in a white thong strips naked for my drunk friend who kept saying he had a girlfriend while the girl’s tits played drums with his eyeballs.
“Nothing wrong with talking to her!” I say. Oh God, Rob. Die.

This week has been crazy in just the right ways I like to have my dosages of “crazy.” I’ve touched a lot of people’s lives (and vaginas) for years now but when the time comes time for them to set their feet down and tell me that the party’s over and the relationship is starting I shrug my shoulders and point up to the ceiling I haven’t been able to break through and, as a result, managed to break a lot of hearts with. This week has been about me trying to break that ceiling, and as a result I’ve gone Conan on everything I feel limits me and holds me back. Seriously, don’t you sometimes feel that there’s just too much bullshit going around? I’m too old to be chasing skirts and believing in the L-word, and it’s evident that even with her I’m quite comfortable in my gray area, thankyouverymuch. I’ll tell you the things I don’t want yet: I don’t want marriage, I don’t want kids, I don’t want to tell excpetional girls that I can’t emotionally attach to them because I’m too much of a pussy to break through said ceiling and I don’t want people to rain on my parade. Do you know why I don’t want any of these things? Because apart from orchestrating the shocking development I talked about earlier, my friends and I got hammered, screamed at the top of our lungs so much so that a good 20 people joined us in unison and we caused a dude to play ping pong with his penis. I kept picking on him so that he didn’t grab his crotch every time we screamed like vikings and what does he eventually do? He whips out his johnson and sets it on the ping pong table, with the intention of using it. Oh yes, my life is interesting.

I don’t want stuff like that to stop, and just because I told this particular woman that I love her (I feel uncomfortable with the word, by the way… and my “uncomfortable” I really mean “stupid.” There should be a term for “love in your twenties.”) that doesn’t change a damn thing about who I am and what I do. All I’m doing is cutting the bullshit and breaking that fucking ceiling with a sledgehammer; it’s been messing with me for too long and this week made me realize that I seriously needed to do something about it… the time was now. What’s gonna happen now? Beats me; both her and I will know come Sunday, I suppose. Hopefully we’ll be able to come to an understanding because she’s sore about these things with good reason and I’m saturated to the point where it’s frustrating, yet if I’m talking about it then it means I’m cocky enough to be positive about the whole deal… whatever, I could be setting myself up for disappointment but in the end I don’t give a crap anymore; it’s out there, I’m happy with it and if we can do something about it then so be it. I’m kicking you out of my personal life now. Shoo! Where I’m trying to get to with this rant is that last night was definitely a personal victory… not only did I manage to face my demons and say what I’ve been dying to say for an embarassing amount of years and never had the chance/balls to, regardless of me being powered by beer while it was happening, but I also managed to insert it all in my beloved gray area and that, my friends, is a fucking accomplishment on all conceivable levels. I’m sorry I didn’t post yesterday but as you can hopefully tell, it was for a good cause. Hopefully someday I’ll make a funny story out of this even though it kinda is already anyway but Marley if this wasn’t a rollercoaster week… too sore to bring in the funny yet.

By the way, since I dropped that bomb last night what I’m doing is that I’m getting out of the city. I’m tagging along with Magnus and the Bastardizer to Chitré to see if we can pick up some cholas and get drunk on ridiculously cheap alcohol. After last night and last week, it’s just what the doctor ordered! So, if you’re out in Chitré and see 3 city boys hanging out and dancing like drunken idiots at the jorón, then that’s us. Swing by and say hello! I’ll return on Sunday where apparently “the legend continues” so things should be going back to normal on Monday… hopefully. Unless my widdle heart is broken… then what the hell am I gonna do? Boo-hoo-hoo! Whatever happens, time off from everyone and the city is welcome, very much so. Look out for the second Zombie Walk newsletter to hit you in the face today, too…. with this, I say farewell. Wish me luck this weekend.

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