Dear Friends,

You know there is this game called Asshole and if you are in college, or high school I guess, or even drove by a college once there is a good chance you've probably played it.

One of the best parts of this game is when it's over someone is deemed..."the asshole" and for the entire next game everyone just gets to give it to that person over and over and over again. Depending on how cruel the other players are...the Asshole gets it pretty bad sometimes but, eventually everything evens out because at some point in the night the person giving the Asshole all the trouble eventually becomes the Asshole.

I think about that and I think about life...and friends...and relatives and co-workers and acquaintances . I'm almost 30 now and it seems throughout my life I've been the "Asshole" and then there have been times I've been the one messing with the "Asshole."

But lately I feel like I have been on a year long streak of nonstop Asshole-ing. Every time I look up and a new game starts I say, "great...it's gonna be someone else's turn now" but no....I become the Asshole again and everyone starts to give it too me. It's almost like they are having fun with it. Like it makes them really, really happy.

I think about Karma and maybe I was really mean to some Assholes in the past and now I am getting what I deserve... but the truth is....No one deserves this much Asshole treatment. The process behind this is just some sick individuals lust to constantly give it to an Asshole. Over and over again. They love it. I just seem to be the perfect patsy.

So at this point I have no other choice but to find another game to play. I really liked the people I was playing with but I can't sit here and constantly have people giving me trouble...much of which I don't deserve... just because they think there has to be an Asshole and I have to be that person.

So no more Asshole...No more Asshole players. You want to play your stupid game find someone else to play with. I'm done. Guess you are gonna have to pick someone else to treat like an Asshole...

Dear Friends,

So I watched "Terminator Salvation" last night and what can I say... Meh...

It just seemed very mediocre and as if everyone was their to collect their paychecks and leave. Lots of cool explosions, chase scenes and robot fighting but there was something about it that just kinda seemed.......phoned in.

Take the scene, for example, where John Conner (played by a seemingly irritated Christian Bale....wonder why?) is sneaking into the Skynet base. Now this is something that they lead you to believe is a nearly impossible feat....something that no human DARE to attempt because of how sophisticated these machines are and how advanced their strategy and thinking is. In the scene, John walks up to a door with a key pad....prys open the bottom panel. Attaches a computer to the wires....types the word "override" to.......ya....you guessed it.....override the system....and the doors open.

Now if this does not speak to the true intelligence of the superior machine enemy dominating the world through use of technology....a few seconds later...a T-600 guard comes strolling by and in order to evade IT, John simply sneaks around the corner.

As if he is Hudson Freaking Hawk.

Come on now. It's a ROBOT!

It's not a 35 year old college drop out who recently lost his job as night security at the mall and only got recruited by Skynet cause his cousin knows the head touret gun guard.

Maybe this robot guard was like they Chris Farley character in black sheep.......always screwing things up where ever he went. So Skynet was like..."hey! I know we'll let him guard the door to our base....you know the one where it's impossible for any human to figure out are super sophisticated secret code-system of attaching a Nintendo DS to it and typing out exactly what they want to happen and then, magically it just........happens........with no computer hacking training or ability what so ever."

Look...I accidentally turned Jersey Shore once and the batteries went dead in my remote....so I know some of us humans are a few mistresses short of being a well known golfer but....if this excellent display of super human, advanced technology is able to take the world over.....wow...not even Batman can save us....

P.S. and what's with the Asian girl falling in love with the robocop guy? Seriously?

So I pulled up Digsby today which has my Yahoo account linked to it and I don't know if you are aware but the new thing now is to randomly "Spam-Chat" people and try to get them to go to porn sites. So about 5 minutes into being logged on I was "targeted"...

Here is the chat log that followed......

________________________________

Her: heeey..u there???

Me: yup.....who dis?

Her: ooh hey

Me: hey

Her: well I just saw your name on the yiahoo directory and your profile seemed interesting lol

Me: let me guess...you have pictures of yourself and I just need to sign up for some website to see them?

Her: i have pics babe they are on my site babe and i have almost nothing on lol

Me: whoa...crazy how I guessed that huh?

Her: what are you up to? lol

Me: talking to you....that's it...

Her: nicee, welll.. I work frrom home just starting doing these cam shows It's pretty fun actually lol

Me: what an entrepreneur .l....

Her: I am a little busy right now cant really talk here, but if you want I would LOVE if you came to watch my show, give me some company, and maybe a GOOD rating ???

Me: ya ya ya....and I won't be able to talk to you on here anymore right?

Her: This way you can see what I look like and we can chat while I work, I promise you wont be dissapointed..I must warn you though, I am not wearing much..

Me: right.....so original...

Her: well I think i have my free friend's pass lyin here one sec babe.. I mean would you want it??

Me: oh...of course....

Her: yup, I do got another pass left!..YAY.. just please don't tell anyone else I can get in trouble. What color panties should I put on for you sexy, i'll let you pick! LOL

Me: granny panties.....I like em big.....and round....

Her: k lol .. You joining me ?

Me: I'm making fun of you...

Her: Ok, go to (her website) scroll all the way down to the bottom babe, and you will see "Friends of Amateur Network?", click that and when you get the password page, put in the password: " sessykiz48 " okay?

Me: will you go to my website? it's called www.Iamnotgonnafallforyourstupidshit.com.....

Her: yup, fill out your info, make sure you put your correct b-day k?

Me: how is 9/24/1993?

Her: k, if you entered as my friend, it should say 0.00, if so you are good for my free friend's pass dont worry about the autorenew the pass cancels all charges

Me: hey do you have a penis?
Me: I like girls with penis'

Her: CC is just to verify your age hun,its the sites policy to ensure no minors get access to the site .. i gave u my free friend's pass

Her: ok let me know when you get in so I can invite you directly to my cam.

Me: not going until I get a confirmed penis...

Her: k, you in yet babe?? Don't keep me waiting!

Me: P E N I S

Her: k

Me: k

Her: k when u login click LIVEWEBCAMS and I'm the girl on the top row farthest to the left. There's a chat there so I'll see u there babe ... maybe u tell me what to do

Me: I know this is sudden....but....will you marry me? I am an Architect named Arther Vandelay and I make eleventy billions dollars a year....

Her: k

Me: sweet. Now I can tell all my friends about my fiance's new website where she gets naked and plays with herself....my dreams have come true...

Me: uh oh....I think I won this little battle of wit...huh?

Me: a simple "touche" would suffice

____________________________________

I put her comments as "her" but let's be honest it's some 40 year old dirtbag pervert trying to squeeze 39.99 a month out of me.....

Hey "Margret"....I can see boobies for free!......

--Anthony

Dear Friends.....

Long time I agree
No hear, no see
No taste, no touch
Didn't even smell me
An occasional sixth
sense unlike any other
keep me in the back of your mind
like a sister or a brother
All these emotions, feelings
seem to be promoting, believing
that controlling or conceding feelings
was never working or conceiving to be
a good idea, never liked it
not a fan
I'm a man that needs to open his mind to relax
so feel free to read along
you will see if I am wrong
then it will be as if a song
has no end, way too long
no beginning either, simply does not exist
It won't fix, won't amend
won't make up for a miss
spinning wheels on a car
stationary won't get very far
but then does jumping in head first
make you feel better than you are?

This is my hopefully return to posting Dear Friends letters. :)

Love
Anthony

Dear Friends,

"Pound, Pound, Pound. I look up with a shiver at the large red door in front of me. Could this be it? Could they be here? I'm....I'm, not ready. I mean, yah, I wanted them to come. More than anything else. I sat and dreamed about it. When I was awake, when I was asleep. That little space inbetween. That's where I dreamt it the most. The day they came. I would stand up and smile. Catch myself in a mirror quickly to touch up my hair before I turn the golden handle. 'We came for you!' they would say and I would jump up and down on the inside. The outside remaining calm and cool. I would take their hand and they would walk me outside into the light. They would take me to the place. The place that makes me smile. Am I afraid to smile? Am I afraid to be happy? That's what is behind the door. Happiness. That doesn't make sense. I have tried everything to get outside. The the happy place. I tried to climb out the window, too high. Up the chiminey, to small. I still wonder how he fits down it. So why won't I open the door? It's right there in front of me. I stand, shaking, as cold as ice yet burning like fire. A short peek through the peephole confirms it's them. They have come to bring me to the place. The happy place. The place of smiles. The place where from I can do so much. More then I can do in here. Heck...I mean I'll be outside. The projects are endless. The possibilities know no not how to quit. And it all begins with a turn of a small golden nob. Round, slick, motionless. Except for the constant pounding that rings in my ears and seems to be getting more frequent. Soon I won't be able to take it. But, what do I do? Open the door? My heart, once in my chest now climbs it's way back up from my left foot. I walk slowly toward the door. I bypass the mirror. This is too important. It's hard to swallow and even harder to breathe as my hand touches the cool lukewarm door knob. My emotions are sweeping around and around as if they were caught up in a tornado. My only hope is to find the peaceful eye. A bead of sweat glistens down my forehead and I say aloud as if to convict myself. "It's time." Time to do, what I was meant to do. Time...to open the door."

Love you guys,
Antny

Dear Friends,
When I was little I used to love to color. I used to love getting coloring books and crayons. Crayola Crayons to be exact. Especially the box with 164 differant colors...you know...the one with the crayon sharpener on the back. I loved that box. The reason being is because I loved to have that many colors to choose from. You know...when I was coloring a dog...maybe I wanted to make his color red...or amber....or yellow-green....or green-yellow. The point was...I loved to mix it up. The differances between each color was amazing. If you drew something in blue...it would give it one kind of look. But, if you drew it in Navy Blue...it would be a completely differant looking picture. I relate this moment to life...and society. See it confuses me how life is. How society is. Or moreover, how they see things. "They" being the general consensis (sp?). See I look at life as one big coloring book...and when I meet someone...I am meeting a crayon. It could be a white crayon...a dark brown crayon...maybe even a off yellow. But, what's great about that crayon is that it adds a little something special to the Big Coloring Book. If it weren't there then maybe that picture would lose something. That is why I am confused. I don't understand why some people in life...want to color....with one crayon. Who wants a picture of a duck....that is colored in all white. To add color to a picture is to give it life...define it....make it more interesting. So why is it not the same in life. Who are these people that want to color the world a single color. How boring is that? I guess these are the same people that didn't get a Transformer Coloring Book to play with when they were kids. Maybe they should pick one up at the dollar store. Along with the BIG pack of crayons....the one with the sharpener in the back. Maybe they will open their minds a little....become interested in Burnt Orange...or Aquamarine....find that it brings a differant look to their one-color page. Maybe they will hang it on the fridge...
Just some thoughts from a guy who is real tired...right before bed.

Dear Friends,
Wouldn't it be weird if this was not your first shot at life. Like, for example, what if it was your third. The third time you were living your life. Third time you met all the people you have met in your life. Third time you had a chance to make a good decision...or a bad one...that would effect the rest of your life. What's even weirder is if this is your third...is there gonna be a fourth? And in that fourth year...do you get another chance to make that decision? We live our lives with a lot of questions but, one that is answered quite regularly is...that God created us..(or we came from apes...either way you want to look at it). But, let's take the God way of thinking just for argument's sake. Now they say we are created in God's image. Well, I think up kookie, crazy stuff all the time...so does that mean God could to? Why not. Why couldn't He be creative enough to think up something like this. To give people second, third or even fourth shots at completely what they were meant to do on earth. Meet who they were meant to meet. Or even more over....let's look at it a differant way. When I meet people that come to be good friends of mine I develope what I could only explain as a 'connection' with them. Sometimes I can tell as soon as I meet someone...what kind of person they are and whether or not we will be good friends. All of you probably know what I am talking about. But, the thought I have is....I love these people..my friends and family. But, what I love most about them is sharing our everyday lives together. The Pains, the troubles...the good times and the bad times. Going through these experiences is what gives me the memories that I cherish. Well, when we all go to heaven...there won't be any more bad times. There won't be anymore problems. It will just be peace and happiness....all the time. Which don't get me wrong..I won't complain but, somehow I feel like I will miss the world we live in. I will miss fighting....I will miss hoping. I will miss anticipation...and suspence. I will miss the chill down my spine that I get when something amazing happens to me. I will miss my spine. I will miss that in one second I could change my life for the entirety of it. That is a rush. Life is a rush. Maybe lot's of people out there don't agree with me and that's fine. No one EVER said you had to. But, in regards to what I wrote earlier, I ask you this...when we die...what happens to people like me? Do we just give in to peace and happiness or do we get to become Scott Bakula and Quantum Leap back through time and start over again? Do we just get to keep enjoying life...but, in differant time periods and as differant people?
Funny what kinda thoughts you think up when you are sitting in trafic for an hour.
Of course if we all came from monkeys then none of this really even matters now does it. But, that would explain the excessive hair I have obtained throughout my body :o)
This is Anthony #3 saying love you guys....and in the next life...and the next life....and the next life.....
Anthony J Doria

Dear Friends,

There was this puppet. His name is really of no concern but just for this letter let's call him Willow (Speaking of Willow, watch Star Wars Episode one...the pod race scene....Just keep thinking "Willow") Anyway, Willow wasn't always a puppet. Actually he was a little boy for a long time (no long nose or long-anything jokes coming....sorry). For some odd reason unlike his brother....we will call him "P" because he is famous and we don't want to embarass him.....Willow wanted to be a puppet. He constantly searched the earth for a puppet master but to no avail. Finally one night, after praying to the puppet gods, he found what seemed to be the greatest puppet master he had ever layed eyes on. Immediately he let the puppet master string him up. He felt completely dependent on the puppet master (we'll name him James H.)(James had a lilttle assistant named Kurt)(he talked like a girl) Anyway, it's late so I will try to wrap this one up. The point of this story is that after a while Willow wanted a drink of mountain dew. He looked up at the can but no matter how hard he tried he couldn't move his arm. He asked the James the Puppet Master but, all the he did was ridicule Willow and tell him he shouldn't drink mountain dew cause it would make him imperfect (It was probably the Yellow #5). It was then that Willow realized that he had no control over his body anymore. No control over his actions. Even his thoughts. We was completely controlled by the puppet master. No dependency was worth the loss of the ability to choose how to live life....Even if the choices were not good. So currently Willow is mustering up the strength to grab the scissors next to the Mountain Dew can and cut the strings currently bounding him to the control the Evil Puppet Master. I guess Willow's brother was right all along. It's time to become a real live boy.

Love you guys,

Papa D

Dear Friends,

You know that movie with that guy and that girl. They don't like each other in the begining. Heck they don't even know each other but, then certain things happen. Some call it luck. Others call it coincidence. Some people actually think that those instances were meant to be. You can always remember this movie because something always goes wrong and it looks like the two aren't gonna make it. Then it happens....Magically...Love fights through the mess and they come together at the end of the movie.....smiling......holding hands. He slides his fingers through her hair and gently leans her head to the side and moves in for the kiss.

Blackness...

Then the credits role.

You know that movie?

Well I am here to tell you what happens if that movie didn't stop there. If the story didn't end there. If the climax didn't occur. Because, well that's what real life is. In real life you can have love stories you just have to remember that the work doesn't ever end. Let's go back to our movie:

The man (Let's call him Boris) probably was a simply guy. Didn't like to have to think very much. But, when he met his co-star (Noris {Bet you thought I was gonna say Natasha}) he noticed something about her that peaked his interest. She was confusing to all Hell! It's ok though because Boris loved challenges and was going to win her heart no matter what. So the entire movie Boris works hard to acheive his goal and in the end he finally does. Noris falls madly in love with him and they kiss.

Now what?

What happens now? Do you stay in that state of floating through the clouds? We are naive if we believe that garbage. Anyone that's been in any relationship knows that it's not all fun and games. It's not the finish line. The gun just went off. Boris didn't win. The only thing that happend at the end of that movie was Noris qualified him for the race. She subsituted him into the game. That game is going to last his entire life. He will be running that race for ever. The only way that out is to quit. Is to stop. Sure there is gonna be potholes along the way. It might rain. It might snow. It might hail. The devil might come up from the pits of hell and unleash terror upon the empty souls that embrace their little lives filled with idolotry and sin.......and I know if that happens two things will always hold true.....

1. Schools in Chicago will still be in session

and more importantly It would be worth the terror because I....I mean..um..Boris....is simply in the race. And he is gonna run his hardest from now on.

Love you guys.

Papa D

Dear Friends,

I am cleaning. Now all of you...(especially my mother) can vouch for the fact that I don't clean very much. But what most of you don't know is when Anthony gets the sudden urge to clean it's because a question has been imposed on him. I boggling riddle that perplexes the intellectual inner thoughts and requires a large amount brain power to be resolved. For some odd reason I harness that power of the mind when I clean. My specialty.....Bathrooms. The problem is I have finished fighting off the green moldy monster in my shower us boys like to refer to as "Mo Mo" like it is some sort of mascot for the Apartment, and yet I still have not come to that egnimatic conclusion that will forever put to rest my wandering heart. So I turn to you.....my friends. I turn to you with yet another confusing, fragmented collection of elaborate symbols and prefabricated metaphors that have fallen a few Natural Lights short of the "Gramaticcally Correct" suitcase. (notice the mispelling)

So here we go.

I don't know if I have used this analagy before for the simple fact that it seems so familiar. Like a thought in the back of our minds that we never pay attention too.

Think of a rose. How beautiful. The smell. The sight. The taste (if you are some sort of insect of course). What's funny about rose is as wonderful of a object it is. The minute you grab for it....it injures you. Yup. This rose....suprisingly has thorns. Now human society normally deems anything painful or harmful to yourself....bad. Yet a rose is recognized as a love momento. A token of one's feelings to another. Why is it a rose has this special power. This camoflaged stealth mode that makes us forget about the pain and suffering it might cause us and move on into the feelings and thoughts that this red flower may or may not delight us with. Because it is the truth. When you recieve a rose only one this is certain. It is not certain that you will feel safe. Nor comforted. Nor Kindness. Nor will you feel any feeling that you desire. There is a chance not one will be fulfilled. Nope. The only certainty about accepting a rose is that at some time you will be blinded by it's beauty and slowly run your hand down it's long stiff stem. Then...BAMM. That's when it gets you.

So my question is this.....

What about a rose makes possibility of getting hurt no more of a worry than Dave Mathews Band not putting on a good show every night?

Is it because we are un-intellegent? (I think anthony is making up words again)

Or is it because although we have all grown up and left behind the childish thoughts of fate and signs and symbols that might lead our way.....we all have a little kid deep down inside saying remember all that dreams and ideas I had? Maybe we believe that just this once that rose fulfill our desires. Maybe you have to endure pain to accept love. Maybe I have been looking at this all wrong.

Or maybe I should clean some more....

Love you guys..

Antny

Dear Friends,

I have been dwelling a lot lately and well, you know what that means.

It means I have something blatently useless to talk about.

Yet this week I think it's gonna be differant. This week I am gonna offer a piece of advice. Some food for the brain if you will. This week I will discuss and explain in great detail the

(da da da da)

ANTHONY'S THREE MONTH DATING RULE

Let me supply a scenerio for you all and you can tell me if it sounds familiar.

You meet someone, and right from the bat you have a strange comfortable and most important....equal attraction to one another. So you start the normal human dating ritual (flowers, candy, tonsil-hockey). After about one month this person (Or person's depending on which culture) seems like God's gift to you and you say to yourself "This is the one!" as a college kid says when looking for a movie in Walmart's 5 dollar DVD section and he/she comes accross "Shadow Warriors" starring Shannon Tweed, Appollo Creed from "Rocky" and last but certainatly not least.......Terry "Hulk" Hogan.

Moving along,

So, it is at this point when the first thought of that word that can be hell and heaven all in the same gravy dish. You know, the word with more Dr. Jeckal and Mr Hyde traits then the Colonel in the first "American Ninja" Movie? (ok bad example)

Of Course I am talking about love. Love Love Love. The only word we spend countless numbers of hours creating 'higher' standards than the new Snoop Doggy Dog Talk Show (if you know what I mean). Yet in the same instance, we are so quick to apply this word and all the meaning behind it into every little scarolle *(italion word that I don't know how to spell. I am not sure what it means except my grandpa use to call my girlfriends it) we meet in a bar and doesn't snubb us when we open up with our pick-up line we stole from Adam Sandler in Anger Management.

(yah the "exploding in my pants" one.......oh yah, I tried it.....heh heh)

As I see I am getting off track I will make a sharp right and bring this letter back to that first month. The first month of dating. When everything is perfect. Now I want you to listen when I say this.

The first month. IS COMPLETE AND UTTER BULL@#%$&!!!

Follow this scale and you will always have a clear and conscience head when dating.

Month one = Courting Month. This is the month that your gal/guy is gonna try everything he/she can to make sure you like them. Go out of there way to do things. Buy presents. BE AWARE!!! This is not the actual person you are dating. This is merely Ted the salesman they have sent out to close the deal on you.

Month two = Cancellation Month. This is a very important month. See initially this person you are dating roped you in but, you still have a 30-day risk free trial period. They know that at anytime during this month you can cancel your service so they have to take what ever you liked during month one and duplicate it during month two.

Month three = This is where the evil doer will sink their claws in. They know they can hold the REAL them back for long so it's time to sign your life away. It's time to agree to the terms of the life contract. It's time to get you to say those incredible hulk words.....I LOVE YOU.

Then they've got you. You stuck. You are in for life. What happens next is the real person you are dating comes out and it's no where near who you thought you were dating. But, you can't leave.....because you are in love. Sucker.

There is hope though friends.....The next time you date someone. Wait three months before making any rash decisions. Fortunately even the evil-est of evil can only hold back their evil-ness for so long. A period of time before they can't take it anymore. That period....

Three months.

Three months.

Three months.

This has been Anthony Doria......once again telling you something.....you probably already know. :o)

Love you guys.

antny

Dear Friends,

Well, I just got done watching an Arnold Swartzenegger (sp?) movie. You know the one where he is a burned-out cop/fireman/security guard who has a drinking problem because his family was killed so he goes on a phycotic rampage and destroys a hole bunch of stuff while in the same time completing the revenge on the peverbial bad guy who put him in his state in the first place?

Yah that one...

Anyway, it occured to me during my blight of entertainment that I hadn't wrote a Dear Friends, in a while so I made my way into Tom's room and started my adventure into the world wide web.

You know it's weird living my life. Constantly analyzing every possible possibility to every questionable question that my mind ever conceivably conceives. I am serious, I sure all of you don't have enough time on your hands to ever wonder if we can measure distance with time......

ex: How far you? oh about 20 minutes away....

Then why is it weird to measure time with distance?

ex: What time is it? oh about 30 miles?

That's right....only I would think up something stupid like that. Well I won't lie. I might not think it up but, darn it. I will have the free time to sit and dwell upon it for three hours. More so, I will write email letters to all my friends about it causing the ever popular thought of "what the hell is he talking about?"

Yet this is me....and this is what I do. This is who I am. Who I will always be. Constantly analyzing stupid analogies that no one would have ever cared about if I hadn't brought it up. I feel like a ACT Test or something. I feel like I bring up questions and stories that make no sense yet give other people the compelling feeling to try and figure out. Yet once they do they probably will never really need the answer the rest of their lives. Is this true? Or am I just stuck analyzing myself again? My life? My choices? My dreams? My love? Or maybe the love I could have had? Or should have had? Or should have hadn't?

I sense I have gone to far.

That's what I get for looking to deep again. I don't think my brain can handle it.

Love ya,

antny

Dear Friends,

Well Well Well Friends, you are the remaining list of Anthony's Friends that would like to continue to get emails from him. So congratulate yourselves (or find yourself in the same position Neo did in the first Matrix movie when the other dude said, "I know what you are thinking...I should have taken the blue pill") Needless to say, you love me and want to hear more of me and what's more important I finished posting all the "Dear Friends" letters on the site (in which you can check out down below) so it is time for a Brand New "Dear Friends."

So heeeeeerrrrrrreeeeee we go.

So I have been through a lot the past month or so. Hell actually the past year. See last year about August or so I was playing around in some dirt (as little boys do). I found this piece of glass in the dirt that looked so beautiful and so perfect. I gazed at it for a while and decided finally (even though my parental figures advised me not to) to pick this piece of glass up. I held that piece of glass high in my hands as to say to the world "LOOK WHAT I HAVE! LOOK WHAT I OBTAINED! LOOK WHAT I HAVE THAT YOU DON'T!" But you know what happened?

(say it with me with the ever familiar roll of the eyes)

What Anthony?

The Damn Piece of glass cut me. This beautiful piece of glass put a nice 3 inch sliver down my left hand and I did what any little boy who had just been hurt. I dropped that peice of glass and I ran and hid.

Now let's hop in the Delorian and shoot back to the Future a bit (1.21 gigawats!!!!!)

It's now November 28th, and here I am still wounded from the beautiful glass that turned out to have a sharp deadly edge. But, as luck would have it I found the greatest thing you could find if you had a wound of this stature....I found a Spunge Bob Blue Bandaid. So I put this bandaid on and ooooh boy did this bandaid do everything it was supposed to. It protected my wound. It kept all the stuff I needed in to stay in and it kept all the stuff i needed to keep out....well out. The best part It made my hand look damn good...(after all spunge bob?) But, something happened that I didn't count out.

The bandaid got old.

It got crusty

It lost it's stickyness....

I mean after all it's just a bandaid. It's not like it's part of my skin. Just a temporary fix. I will admit that I wish it was more...(like I said...who would want spunge bob to be a part of them). But the reality of it was it was just a bandaid it did it's job and now it was ready to come off.

So I took it off.

And I missed my spunge bob bandaid. I missed it so much.

But today you know what I realized? My spunge bob bandaid did the best thing it could have ever done....because now I look down at my left hand and I don't see a wound.

My wound has healed. Thanks to you Bob...

Love you guys

Antny

THE FIRST EVER DEAR FRIENDS!!!!!!

Dear Friends,

Well, the Mountain Home Hockey Tournament just ended and we took silver medal. I would love to go into it but, I am sure I will bore you all. Anyway, the reason of this letter is a very slick and sly way of trying to get you all to write me emails. Also, Anthony spends alot of his day thinking up real stupid stuff in his head. And I guess it would be good to get it out. So the deal is so, When I think
up stupid stuff. I will write about it and tell you. Then you send me and email back telling me how retarded I am and we are all happy. :o)

I work in a warehouse all my day. So needless to say, I have alot of time on my hands trying to entertain myself. I also get my choice of work-music and although the MH radio stations are worthy enough to go national, I choose pick a station which you might say is somewhat....well....Dorky. The Oldies station. I know what most of you are saying, "like, sock-hop stuff?" The answer to that question is....well....yes. Love it. Can't get enough. Don't believe me? Fine. Let's go over that facts here. Even though oldies are so geeky it's funny how over 70 nineties artist's have decided to re-record these old songs to makes lot's of money? Still, not convinced? Songs fromt the fifties, sixties, and early seventies are used more for movie soundtracks than any other songs from any other generation combined. Now look if you are looking for your precious songs with Lusty whims take a look at a few Marvin Gaye songs, preferably "let's get it on." What about your passionate/intimate side. Nothing says, "I love you," like the greatest love song of our time....Unchained Melody.....Righteous Brothers. This past decade, society was torn in shreds. One of the many causes of this was the lack of entertainment in this world. The people that I grow up with are the most creative people I know but, without something to entertain them the turn to drinking, drugs and sex to get them through this life. Too bad we are not able to "Twist and Shout," "Mash Potato," or "Shake it Baby" anymore. It seems like would be a bit more exciting. Of course I could just be talking out of my butt because it's six in the morning. Regardless, I probably will never know because no one emails me. :o)

Love you guys,

Antny

Dear Friends,

I used to have a way of thinking that I am completely not proud of. I don't know if anyone else thought this way but, I was a big believer in sypathy. Patronizing my self was almost a daily affirmation in the way that I could not sleep until I found something about my life that was wrong. I understood that I wasn't the only one that had it bad out there. I didn't feel alone. I just felt that I, like many people out in the world today didn't deserve what happens to me on a daily basis. I am not gonna go into things because for the first time in my life I feel like my hardships and problems are not for public use. They shouldn't be flaunted or thrust upon people whatever the intention may be. I do admit that I never once wanted sympathy from another. Yet, I acted as though It was a perverbial "IOU"
that anyone I have every met was branded with at birth. But, as I said...this is the way I used to think.

Today I realized something. I was created. I was placed in the spot that I am in. My life has gone the way it has and, furthermore, I have endured all the laughs, cries, loves, hates for one reason. Because I was made for it. Why would my creator (who ever he or she may be) create me and then throw me into all these tough situations that I can't handle. That's the question I used to ask. But, really there is no question. There is only that answer. That answer: "The only reason I am in this mess is because I have the ability to handle it"

No one plays a video game that's impossible to win. No body plays Volleyball against a bunch of 5 year olds. The reason why is because no one wants to play the game if it's so easy it's ridiculous. Just like no one wants to play if you are guarenteed from the start that you are gonna lose. That's why we all go through what we go through. Because deep down...we have the power to win. We have the power to make it. That's why it's not easy. It's also why it's not so hard that's impossible.

I leave you all with the questions that helped me get over this hump.

What is better than hitting that three-pointer to win the game?

What is better than spiking that getting that slapshot off the ground for the first time after months of practice?

What is better than playing that guitar riff with ease after messing up so many times?

What is better than than winning, when you know you worked so hard for it and despite everyone else telling you it couldn't be done....you did it.

Why? Cause you were made to do it.

love you guys.

Anthony