The King has returned to see this lil lady off to gettin hitched. (pictured: Flashback to 2002’s Winter Sports Dance, to which I returned to pass the crown I was benighted with the year before, accompanied by then hot-date & now awesome-bride, Jenny? – who is also Wheelers sister).
Since 2000 i get a mild cold once a year and a heavier sickness every 2 years on average.
In both February and December 08 I contracted fevers on visits through Missouri and fled to my parents house in Texas to recoup.
March 09 I had a cold and now August 09 another fever with flu-ish symptoms… still a defensible record of up-time vs down-time, but still – Chris Wheeler must never know of this…
That filthy little germ-wad claims he “never gets sick” (totally false btw. I’ve witnessed him coughing, weezing and moping around with fatigued grumpy sniffles on many occasions) and that I “always get sick” (false as exhibited by well kept record of health). He amplifies bug I catch into being evidence of my frailty so he can continue to sludge around his gutter lifestyle and be free of judgment. He’s one of these douchebags that uses the exception to the rule as evidence that the rule is a myth – most commonly represented in people with authority issues denouncing seat belts because they heard some person somewhere (they never quite know the details) died in a car accident because they were wearing a seat belt. That’s actually not even an analogy to illustrate a parallel belief vs tactic paradigm – Wheeler is a seat belt truther just as much as he is a believer that living cleanly makes you weak and forces you to get sick more.
If healthy people contract a virus once a year then healthy diet and exercise is revealed to be a meaningless fraudulent waste of a lifestyle according to Chris Wheeler.
Wheeler would just tell this kid “see? that’s what you get for eating all that healthy shit and washin ur damn hands all the time. jezus christ.”
Of course it doesn’t help that he somehow happens to find and read random science based articles that appear to support or at least evidence some possibility of these things so he can use them as incontrovertible proof for his crackpot theories. Like the 9/11 conspiracy morons who think the most eye-witnessed event in history actually played out differently than what everyone saw before their eyes and will use one person who was in a field at low visibility and still in shock of the event tells a news outlet that they saw “what looked like a missile” – all of a sudden its case closed. See? one guy in a field saw a tubed object flying at a high rate of speed at an angle where the wings and windows weren’t entirely evident – ergo, 9/11 was an inside jeaarb.
Wheeler does the same thing. They’re basically the same person, except the 9/11 conspiro usually went to collage.
I must cure these ailments immediately and Chris Wheeler must never known these events ever occurred or i’ll have helped add another notch into his smug “people don’t believe me but i’m right about everything” delusional views of health and cleanliness.
Who you got? and who won? Dwayne, Me or Wheeler? saw this picture Wheeler had posted of the 3 of us at breakfast posing and unintentionally looking uncomfortable as hell.
Dwayne and Wheeler flew into LAX from Missouri the night before and spent the night at my house before we all shoved off to hit my apartment in Hawaii for a week. It just happened to work out that my mom was visiting at the time so we had a ride to the airport, which was at least 90% better than hitchhiking the 101 at 7AM with only our smiles and offers of handjobs to get us by.
We got in late the night before so they boys didn’t see my mom till the morning where their personalities were illustrated to comedic effect noticed only by me. The shower head at my end of the house wasn’t working so I sent Dwayne to go wash his morning stink off down at my aunts end of the house. The guys haven’t seen my mom in 5 years since we left Missouri in 2003 and Dwayne was his usual cordial self, greeting her with a hug and “hello Mrs Bushnell” and all that crap. While I’m trying to figure out wtf is wrong with my washing device, Wheeler gets up from the couch (which for some inexplicable reason he was sleeping on even though I had a bed for him) to see what the commotion is about and gives a “hey, whats up?” to my mom as he presses the “don’t let water out” switch on the shower.
Here we are in my front yard having an awkward smile contest.
Speaking of friends of mine that ruin their lives by knocking up chicks they’re not married to and keeping the baby (“keeping” meaning “not giving it up for adoption to a 2 parent stable and loving family that will love it and care for it and stuff” of course. not “keeping” meaning the alternative to having it cut up with a scalpel and sucked into a sink before its born) – Richardland Guest star Jimmy Bussey just illegitimately fathered a little girl who was birthed a couple days ago. I’m still waiting for some decent pictures and stuff but I’m sure she’s ugly, so its all good.
In honor of the joyous occasion of the birth of the girl Wheelers 1 year old son is going to knock up in 15 years and make early grandparents out of these 2 idiots, I encourage you all to go watch some vintage RTV videos of these new dads when they were young and care free. Before such foreign concepts entered their lives as child support, visitation, college funds and endless fighting, nagging and legal battling with women they signed up to be connected to for the rest of their lives despite not particularly liking them all that much.
The house that was my home for the last few years – the most developmental years of richardness – is now empty and belongs to someone else.
My green Grand Am, the 3rd car designated as mine but the first that I’ve owned in this short time since I’ve been driving, is jam packed with my essentials. Most of my possessions have been boxed away with my parents stuff and will find a new home in the Richard-wing of their new house in Texas. I bring with me only a few key items, clothes and a ton of useless crap that makes me, me and will make my new room, Richard’s Room.
This is the second time I’m leaving Missouri, as I lived here shortly when I was 5, but then I went back east. This time, I go west… west to Hollywood (or an hour north of it at my grandparents old house. whatever). West to fame and stardom. I started in New York, rested here in the midwest for awhile, and now to the far leftest coast of these United States. No where to go after that…
Living History Log:
I lived in St Louis for one year when I turned 5, and 5 years when I turned… into a man.
*que inspirational music*
Though I leave Missouri as I came: friendless, in need of an indentity reformatting and uncertain of what will develop from my new change of address – I will remember my time here fondly.