Made to Do

I've pondered and introspected without end, only taking intermittent breaks for candle time and sausage parties, what is my purpose in life? I have learned much from my own errors and follies what I was not meant to do. Checking mortality tables, calculating benefit estimates, becoming an actuarial demigod, driving a nice car (washed 3x and waxed 2x so far), wearing expensive clothes (upgraded from Old Navy to Gap), and yelling "use your face!" when a friend drops a glass cup are all empty pursuits. By their descriptions, it seems to be a life full of fast cars, big money and long laughs. It is rare to see someone trully live up to their potential... and as life would have it, I found it on youtube.



If I could sing like that, I wouldn't shuddup. I'd sing every moment of every day. I'd sing my telephone number if you asked for it, sing my orders (9-ah piece faaaammiil~leeee meeal with~a biscuuuuiiiiiitTTTT), even conduct business with notes (rre-re-re-re-re-re-serve are hiiiiiiggggghhhh!!!). I'd whore my voice out to the world. But alas, the only thing that I whore these days is a distaste for guys who've traded in their manhood for prius or blog. (No offense guys... but seriously come on :) seriously)

I knew being a professional or even a moderate singer was not in my destiny when someone told me that I was disturbing his praise. If you've heard this story already, I apologize, but it's what keeps me awake at night wondering if Jesus will accept me into heaven even though I don't hit the right notes. It was a very traumatic time in my life because I was actually doing really well spiritually, but when I was told this I ran into a spiraling abyss of spiritual depression. I'm still trying to recover. I only ask that you pray for this friend of mine. That he could find solace in that I was indeed trying to praise Him in my own incorrect sinful ways. Please pray that he will give encouragement and not heart-ripping criticism. Please pray for him. I will not divulge his name, but only ask that you pray for this friend. His name starts with an "Al" and ends with a "Bie".

I've actually had another friend question, "how can you have so much rhythm and sing like that?". To which I responded "how can your nose bleed so much when I barely touched you?". Actually a more musically gifted friend tried to teach me the notes. I felt very comfortable with her cause she can actually sing and we've been friend for quite awhile. We're also pretty tight cause she's the only girl I've totally fart-bombed in front of. She was in the backseat, I was driving. I had gas, I saw her face in the rearview-mirror and the usual "girl-present" alert didn't go off so my ass fired. We're tight like that. But she took me through the notes... think sounds of music. My do was perfect. My rae was right on. I had a little trouble with me... and that's about it. That's as far as I got. Damn, I didn't even get through half of the scale. It's physically impossible for me to sing. It's no fault of my own. It's a physical, mental, spiritual, metaphysical impossibility. If I reach fah, the sun would cave on itself, the world would split open, Albie would buy a combo meal instead of the meal deal, Slum would develop soft hand, Georgia would stay awake, Man-child would look normal after an irish car-bomb, Tommy would slap a girl's behind and my freckles would fall off of my face. It's that impossible. Thank God for more musically gifted people...