One Small Victory at a Time...

A lot has happened since you last left us, but it is good for all of you to know that we are on a good path now. Most importantly, Rachel has stopped peeing in the shower (for the time being). We have also, ladies and gentlemen, decided that we will be moving to Oklahoma at the beginning of May, where we will live for a while over the summer to help get us started in Kansas City. This is a good move because as tough as we are (and Rachel's the toughest broad I know), we would like to be around family and start saving money, seeing as how California has turned into a money-sucking-she-beast of epic proportions. I can actually hear the state getting fatter as my bank account gets smaller.

Also, we've decided that we are going to wait and wed in March. Now, hold your horses out there people! I know what you're thinking, "Oh, my. How scandalous. They're having a child out of wedlock." Well, no son/daughter of mine is going to be called a bastard (unless by it's father, with the word 'rat' in front of it, and in reference to a fight with the child when it is a teenager and has taken off with the car), and to clear anything up, our child is a love child, conceived out of love with love by love, but I'll get to that transition in a minute.

We are planning on getting married in Kansas City next March. And, people can come. So, put on your Sunday best and prepare for next March, because I only have six people coming and I need to fill up the groom's side so when the baby looks out into the crowd he can see that daddy is an important person (not to mention the fact that I need to counterbalance mommy because she's inviting pretty much everyone in the northern hemisphere). So, come one, come all, and I promise you that we're actually getting married this time.

In other news, I have found that karma actually exists. Now, I'm not one to believe in all of that eastern spiritual mumbo jumbo (and, voodoo is not mumbo jumbo, folks) but I've have been priveleged to see the universe reveal it's mysticism to me on several different occasions.

For some strange reason, something has been happening to me. Call it stress, call it being bitten by a radioactive spider, call it what you will, but I've found a new strength in myself that I never knew I had. Granted the side effect to this new power is a constant twitching of my left eye, but all super people have flaws. With this power, I will give you two examples of how I've stood up to people:

1. I keyed a car that was pissing me off.
2. I called a dirty hippie a 'dirty hippie' to his face.

Yes. Very small victories, but victories none the less. And, this is about where fate steps in, and to counterbalance my super victories, here are some examples of karma:

1. Someone knocked the driver's side mirror off of my car.
2. While I was at work on Friday, I was about to go home, but then my boss stopped me and said that they needed to find five protestors for the movie I'm working on, to work on Monday. Okay, I thought, no problem. Oh, but then he went into more detail, and I had to find five, yes five, protestor's with dreadlocks. And, we all know what kind of protestor's have dreadlocks, the dirtiest of the dirty hippies. So, on a Friday night, I had to call dirty hippies and ask them if they wanted to get up on a Monday morning at 5:30am. Oh, yes, it is that ridiculous. Here are some examples of the replies that I received:

a) Meandering voicemails of men and women saying 'dude', and 'take care of yourself', and 'you can't call this number now, my phone doesn't work, but I've moved in with really great people, with great energy and you can call there if it is working', and 'bless you'.
b) Indications that the people I'm calling are stoned or getting stoned.
c) People living in Portland without any money.
d) Reggae music in the background of two callers.

So, guess how many people said yes. Yeah, that's right, none of them. Why, because they are flaky, stoned, dirty hippies, who haven't washed their hair for days. So, yeah, I stayed for no real reason in particular. I mean, come on, do you know any dirty hippie that is going to get up at 5:30 on a Monday morning? I rest my case.

The universe works, ladies and gentleman, but calling a dirty hippie a 'dirty hippie' to his face will always be a small victory, even if I have to call the rat bastards later in the week.

Now, before I go, I would like to let you in on an investment oppertunity that will be beneficial to you and yours. I have a product for you that you can always count on, and apparently, will triple your money. It slices and dices, and can be taught to julien fries. That product:

Adam Martin.

That's right. You should invest in me. Because according to the federal government, I am my own business, thus they will tax me like a business, even if I don't make enough money to support myself. I mean, I know that I am pretty amazing (minus that twitchy eye thing) but, am I amazing enough to have to owe the government $181.00? Yes. Yes, I am.

Invest in Adam. I could be the future.

End Blog.