Not first but not last...

I'm one of those people who never quite come in first, and never quite come in last.

What's that mean to somebody? In life, though? Sure, I get Publisher's Clearing House envelopes proclaiming that I've won trillions and trillions of dollars... only to open it and see that all I really won was using my own stamp to send in the chance to be a winner.

And like many people, I also need to go the extra mile to get that 'extra cent stamp' because hell, I never use stamps. It's the age of the internet! I don't even remember what stamp glue tastes like anymore, though I do recall it being sweet and tangy at one time. I think I should go pick up a pack of pepperminty postal stamps for all my postage needs.

As all zero of my readers whom keep up with my daily life and constant paparazzi attacks know, I'm currently living in Mississippi. Or as it is better known today: Above Ground 100% Humidy Pool & Sauna.

The simple act of going outside blasts you with air so hot that you might feel like you suddenly stepped out of the relative comfortable domain of your home, or in my case, company apartment, and into the part of hell where they put the naughty Eskimos. You know the sort. The ones who enjoy to beat on baby seals.

Like the baby seal who got away, they neither won nor really lost. Kind of like me. Isn't that cute how that ties the continuing story back together again? It's like a literary bridge. Though this bridge won't be in Minnesota. And again like the baby seal whom got away, I too am missing my family.

Though not because they've been transformed into amazingly useful bottles of expensive oil, but rather because they are all so very far away. Too far away, I'm afraid. A couple of states north of me, and many hundreds of miles.

While it is sad, it isn't all bad. This is a year of writing things off. Like the Dodge Stratus on the fence we lost in Katrina. We had to write that off. Also the house next to it. Another write off. The two cats whom escaped out a window and lived on in the woods around the house? Well... we didn't write them off... but the fish. And a few other things.

But like all good stories, the time is closing in for this to come to an end. With each passing day I get closer to tomorrow. I'm a time traveler, traveling through time one second per second in order to fully experience just how things went back in the future when I was now.

I miss my wife and my children. All of them. Though probably my darling wife the most. Because she is my number one fan. My superstar. My hero. The woman who makes me feel like a winner even when I placed somewhere in the ten-thousands range of people across the United States who are 'people with nothing special about them'.

Were I not obligated by contract with my time traveling company to not skip ahead so quickly through time, I would switch myself to being with her now. To feel her warmth again and kiss her soft lips. Erotically grabbing her leg and raising it along my hip. The grazing tips of my fingers lifting her hair to the side and slipping behind her adorably cute ear...

And of course from that point it only devolves into us playing a game of pachinko over a tall glass of something made with ice, strawberry and alcohol after which we watch a movie starring Kevin Costner as Kevin Costner and then going to bed.

To sleep.

Honestly.

...

I don't like the vibes that I'm getting from you, the good reader now. I feel as though you feel as though I'm not being fully honest with you. For shame. Shame on you and your dirty little mind. Gutter head. You make me want to clean my brain with a brillo pad and gargle acetone.

...

Maybe sometimes I do come in first. But it's only because I have an adoring wife who lets me.

So here is this, the post that lets me tell my wife that she makes me number one!

And naturally, that makes her number two.......

Wait a minute... let me rethink this......