mmwwhhat? Jimmy is most like a character in Harry Potter who goes to school with Harry but ends up betraying him and being a total dick? I’m shocked….

I look at the phone and its calling Jimmy. Faaack. So I smack the dentists arm out of the way so I can get out of the home screen, back into the phone section and cancel that shit, almost cutting off multiple teeth from the dental drill in the process. I was able to end the call after only 3 rings. That’s enough to where maybe he won’t see it right?

Oh, you’re lost? Okay, well Jimmy and I aren’t friends anymore. We broke up the bromance June 08 when I dumped him for being a doucher with douchie little secrets [mainly a secret rendevous where coitus may or may not have been involved with my whore ex-gf]. Normal richardland policy is to keep broken friendships in the phone for up to a year so I know if they call, but I gave Jimmy an extension because he called a few months after the breaking asking if I wanted to be friends again. That was nice – I couldn’t accept of course, cuzfuckthat (you can’t just be like “hey, have I waited you out yet?” and hope i’ve just forgotten about shit) but the notion was real nice and showed real “he could come back from this” potential, so I kept him in the address book filed under “bad people”.

But he doesnt have that rule, so he’s not even gonna know its me. right? Ya. This is fine. it’ll be good. Except not really cuz he called back a few hours later. I have voicemail blocked unless you’re on an exclusive whitelist so he couldn’t leave a message. whew. I can just ignore this and pretend it never happened now, right? DAMMIT. He just texted me…

DAMMIT Bussey. Idk what to say to that… Cuz it could mean “you need something from me now you little bitch? hm? that why you’re crawlin back?” or it could mean “I saw that you attempted to contact me and I was concerned that you might be in need of service or assistance and despite our relationship status I’m still here to help if you need it”. Fuck you. That’s smooth. Plus he uses “u” instead of “you” to show he’s all casual and easybreazy like it aint no thang. DAMMIT.

Saw u called.. .. just checking to see if u need somethimg,

Wtf is that comma there for? Was he gonna write more and then deleted it? Something that would put further context to the intended tone? DAMN him taking Journalism in High School. He’s out-editing me.

Okay. just be cool. don’t panic… I came up with some possible responses and analyzed them:

1.) THE RECONCILER:

yes. I need you. back in my life… friend

DREAM ON hippies. we don’t do that shit in richardland. I’ll die without a friend in the world before I settle for ones I don’t respect and can’t trust, and I NEVER allow passage of time to excuse an unpunished crime.

2.) THE UNNECESSARILY HARSH & GHETTO BLASTBACK:

what, you think I would need anything from YOU? I cawled yo dumb ass by accident fool. sh!t n%gger. you aint nuthin. get tha f#ck up off mah phone.

Mmm. It would be fun. but would be entirely inappropriate for the circumstances considering we’re not fighting or are enemies. We ended the friendship on a gentlemens disagreement along the lines of “you suck at life. we’re not friends now. good day…”. So if I snapped back at a polite return contact (that I DID initiate after all), then I’d earn major douche points.

3.) THE MYSTERY:

Sorry. Disregard it please.

No details. no admission that it was an accident or implication it was intentional. Just a quick “nevermind” that leaves him to roam the earth forever as the madness of never knowing slowly eats away at his sanity. hmm…

4.) THE SUBTLE BAITED PARTING JAB

It was a mistake

and hoping he replies “what was a mistake?” I text back:

being friends with you

ooooo. snap dawg.

5.) THE COWARDS APPROACH:

[no response]

Myea… this is the one I ended up choosing… :/

You later richardland residents dont even know, or have forgotten how awesome Jimmy used to be. Well let me tell you a little something.. let me tell you a little story about a boy. a boy named Bussey…

Once upon a high school musical non-musical in the plains of the American midwest there was a driven and career oriented blunt and bold Renaissance man by the name of Bussey. Sure, he didn’t look like much on the outside, but that was only because the boy didn’t know how to present himself properly. See, despite being a football and basketball jock and controlling the schools media, he was poorly socially connected and not on his way toward changing that so when he took note that this spastic faggot named Richard in his drama class had a lot of hot chick friends, he saw opportunity for networking. When spastic faggot drama-Dick was approached by a journalism jock – exactly the puzzle piece that was missing from the new friend network he was building – he saw a similar opportunity and an association was struck.

Unplanned by either side, we actually got along. Like Beauty and the Beast. except when the silverware would burst into musical numbers, he thought it was gay and when he tried to sexually advance toward me I thought it was gay. I’m Beauty in this scenario by the way (duh).

Soon Jimmy was coming over my house every weekend and only 52% for the reason of hanging out with my hot bitches anymore. Before and after the social events I’d conjure up, Jimmy was early to arrive and late to leave. We’d hang out in my room, watch tv, go get food, go to the mall, see movies, and spend late nights at Dennys talking money, philosophy, religion, politics, and current social climate in our school and our new group of friends.

Most unique of all, he was loyal as fuck. Jimmy was the only one I never had to explain the concept of “we’re on the same side, idiot. always. that’s how this works” to. And he never fucked up. Whenever someone in the group did something really inconsiderate, shady, or downright shitty, Jimmys hands were always clean of it.

I got seriously mad and disappointed at Jimmy Bussey exactly one time, ever and that son of a bitch fixed it within hours of the damage… I had amassed an extensive library of Mp3′s on my computer that was the envy of all my friends and I would share copies of songs with people who introduced me to new music and gave me songs themselves, but I got annoyed as hell when others would try to leech songs from me and have nothing to exchange. It sounds silly now, and it would be – NOW. But this was 2001: Napster was still a cool new thing, music on computers was still kindov a novelty, finding it was not super easy, burnable CD’s were not expensive - but they were more costly than they are now, and downloading on dial up internet took 45 minutes per song at minimum. Finally, I set up ways of catching these leeches who would sneak into my music folder and pilfer my precious songs. The culprits where usually Feminine Mikey and Wheeler, but one night… I caught Jimmy. I questioned him and he denied it. I kindov believed him until evidence disproved his dirty lies and was annoyed that I was double-frauded. I invited these people into my home. and they were stealing from me? and lying to me about it? No SIR. not acceptablez. I said as much to Jimmy before he left my house that night. He listened and my words sunk in deeper than than Ted Kennedys car off a bridge, but unlike that analogy, this night would cause no death or ruin either of our chances for running for President. Later that same night, he delivered a note he had written acknowledging that it was an abuse of my trust to take the songs and lie about them, that he was very sorry, wouldn’t do it again and that he will replace the CD’s he used.

Are you listening to this? Dude delivered me a fkking hand written note expressing sincere regret and request for forgiveness because he burned music off my computer.

So what happened to that Jimmy? He withered, faded, and… died? idk. probably. He at LEAST went on extended vacation… lost motivation career wise. knocked up a girl who couldn’t give .5 shits about him and became an aimless alcoholic un-interesting bland and boring puke-for-brains. sad. but add to that.

Maybe he’ll see this blog some time and realize its all true and he’s failing majorly at his potential and it will start a life reformation that brings him back on the road to awesome. Or… more likely: Maybe he’ll see this blog some time and think to himself “wow. Richard sure is a punk ass faggot. I sure am glad that dipshit ain a roun no more. lets go play some bas” and swig back the last shot left in his can of Loser-Ale lager. Or, even more likely: maybe he’ll never see this blog and still think the same thing.

Where is the sporty businessman with the drive and ambition who’s dependable and true?

I’m afraid that bus may have left the station.

The reason we can’t have this is not because I give a damn about Skank MacGruber over there or that a friend may have hit that after me — please. The reason this is an offense receiving a sentence of life in The Box is the non-disclosure and the sickening betrayal. If you want a turn on the town bicycle that Richard is enemies with, you have to do two obvious and easy things: 1) fkking not do it in secret and keep it a secret for years afterward and 2) not be you. more difficult, i admit, but not my problem. those are the fucking rules. if you wanna bang a whore that a friend was scorned by, you have to wear a fake mustache or a fat suit or something that gives you a new identity. otherwise you’re announcing to the enemy that you’re really on their side, and if you’re on their side, then you can’t be on my side, so fuck off and goodbye. The other option I guess could have been to hit it and then go on the attack afterward on a humiliation campaign (Evil Ryan and I had a deal like that with one of his ex’s but he changed his mind and asked me not to at the last minute).

So a behavioral decline that makes you way less cool as time grows, I can handle, and a completely indefensible betrayal that you may have panicked on and tried to cover up or whatever – maybe. But not both. both spell death. and now I don’t like Jimmy anymore.

ooo. drama

Unfortunately, when people get douchie, they don’t often heal from it. The douche disease is usually terminal, going into remission sometimes, but resurfacing at the most inconvenient of times.

I always think they’ll come back from it when a friend is afflicted. but they never come back. Once they’re gone, they stay gone. I’m bored with waiting to see if Jimmy will not be a douche anymore so I’m gonna go ahead and in melodramatically pronounce him dead to Richardland. Miracles can happen and resurrections are possible, but unlikely.

The only person to swing in and out of my good graces is Wheeler and it’s not for any good reasons. For one, he never makes a clean break with any one instance – he just builds up a character deficit of being a jerk and a tool and I peace-out on being his friend and cut his ass off. But then he always finds his way back to not being an ass and/or useless piece of shit to me somehow and we’re cool again.

Which is the same with all the dumb whores and soulless freaks I’ve swung in and out of contact with in California. One might ask how its fair that I keep them around even though I hate them, but people like poor JimBu turn to the douche-side and get the guillotine. The answer is that I always hated the dumb whores. Just like Wheeler: he’s got a lower standard since he’s always been a kind of useless terd, so really all he has to manage is not being a jerk and not crossing the line into seriously-useless-waste that deserves no respect, and he can usually balance it. So yes, a lot of the come-back equation has to do with your previous standing, which may not be fair, but neither is the 16th level of Super Mario Bros, and we all still played that and liked it. People like Jimmy get harsher treatment because they’re held to higher standards that they’ve made for themselves. And don’t be an asshole and take that the wrong way – the way where you assume that no one can make mistakes or be human or any of that bullshit.

I’m putting Jimmy down only cuz I like him so much. It’s like Old Yeller: you share bonding experiences with someone and, sure you both change and grow, but then one of you starts growlin n tryin to bite? That’s a deal breaker… It doesn’t change your love for them. You just acknowledge that you have to take them out back and shoot them in the god damn head. because its the right thing to do.

In honor of the joyous occasion of the birth of the girl Wheelers 1 year old son is going to knock up in 15 years and make early grandparents out of these 2 idiots, I encourage you all to go watch some vintage RTV videos of these new dads when they were young and care free. Before such foreign concepts entered their lives as child support, visitation, college funds and endless fighting, nagging and legal battling with women they signed up to be connected to for the rest of their lives despite not particularly liking them all that much.

* This message will remain on Richardland forever as a warning to all non-believers…

Promoting oral hygiene can be fun. We’re living proof.