Week of ****

This may be the most bizarre, screwed up "Week of's" that you handful of readers are ever going to witness and take in. I'm not writing any of this for sympathy, pathetic warm reassuring shoulders, or awkward moments of silence. I'm writing this because writing is my personal therapy. It's how I handle life. One keystroke after another.

Four months ago, I had no idea what the outcome of my life would be in January of 2012. And I will admit it is interesting how rather than life throwing you a curveball, the Karma pitcher that we all face intentionally throws a high fastball at your head to keep you guessing. Thank you my hypothetical lunatic Roger Clemens for keeping me on my toes.

For full effect, download "Gunga Din" from iTunes and play in the background throughout the entire week as you read these posts.

Honestly I don't really know how to write down the mass jumbling of thoughts parading in and out of my noggin right now. It's a screwed up world out there you know? A world that I don't think any of us has ever, or will ever fully comprehend and figure out. One minute you think you're on top of the world, with nothing holding you back, leaning over the edge of a monstrous White Star Line ocean cruiser with a plump Kate Winslet wrapped up in your arms. And then in a blink of an eye, a giant iceberg pops out of nowhere and dooms 1503 passengers.

Plump Kate Winslet: "I'll never let go Jack, I'll never let go."

Lines like that do not give me the emotional stability to live my life to it's fullest.

Again, this week's posts are not a cry for help or an appeal for family prayers in my behalf, or any other type of dramatic B.S that you can think of. I'm as tough as nails, and don't need a scalloped potato casserole or a chocolate covered chick flick to keep me going. I just use my blinking cursor to motivate me as I transcribe to you the events that have happened, and will happen in my life.

I am Jack's pissed off, tear-coated corneas.