The Buss Stops Here

Unfortunately, I’m announcing that richardland resident Jimmy Bussey is officially exiting the friend-zone and entering the Toolbox. hopefully not for long. except definitely forever. maybe. probably. most likely. god dammit.

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You later richardland residents dont even know, or have forgotten how awesome Jimmy used to be. Well let me tell you a little something.. let me tell you a little story about a boy. a boy named Bussey…

Once upon a high school musical non-musical in the plains of the American midwest there was a driven and career oriented blunt and bold Renaissance man by the name of Bussey. Sure, he didn’t look like much on the outside, but that was only because the boy didn’t know how to present himself properly. See, despite being a football and basketball jock and controlling the schools media, he was poorly socially connected and not on his way toward changing that so when he took note that this spastic faggot named Richard in his drama class had a lot of hot chick friends, he saw opportunity for networking. When spastic faggot drama-Dick was approached by a journalism jock – exactly the puzzle piece that was missing from the new friend network he was building – he saw a similar opportunity and an association was struck.

Unplanned by either side, we actually got along. Like Beauty and the Beast. except when the silverware would burst into musical numbers, he thought it was gay and when he tried to sexually advance toward me I thought it was gay. I’m Beauty in this scenario by the way (duh).

Soon Jimmy was coming over my house every weekend and only 52% for the reason of hanging out with my hot bitches anymore. Before and after the social events I’d conjure up, Jimmy was early to arrive and late to leave. We’d hang out in my room, watch tv, go get food, go to the mall, see movies, and spend late nights at Dennys talking money, philosophy, religion, politics, and current social climate in our school and our new group of friends.

Most unique of all, he was loyal as fuck. Jimmy was the only one I never had to explain the concept of “we’re on the same side, idiot. always. that’s how this works” to. And he never fucked up. Whenever someone in the group did something really inconsiderate, shady, or downright shitty, Jimmys hands were always clean of it.

I got seriously mad and disappointed at Jimmy Bussey exactly one time, ever and that son of a bitch fixed it within hours of the damage… I had amassed an extensive library of Mp3’s on my computer that was the envy of all my friends and I would share copies of songs with people who introduced me to new music and gave me songs themselves, but I got annoyed as hell when others would try to leech songs from me and have nothing to exchange. It sounds silly now, and it would be – NOW. But this was 2001: Napster was still a cool new thing, music on computers was still kindov a novelty, finding it was not super easy, burnable CD’s were not expensive – but they were more costly than they are now, and downloading on dial up internet took 45 minutes per song at minimum. Finally, I set up ways of catching these leeches who would sneak into my music folder and pilfer my precious songs. The culprits where usually Feminine Mikey and Wheeler, but one night… I caught Jimmy. I questioned him and he denied it. I kindov believed him until evidence disproved his dirty lies and was annoyed that I was double-frauded. I invited these people into my home. and they were stealing from me? and lying to me about it? No SIR. not acceptablez. I said as much to Jimmy before he left my house that night. He listened and my words sunk in deeper than than Ted Kennedys car off a bridge, but unlike that analogy, this night would cause no death or ruin either of our chances for running for President. Later that same night, he delivered a note he had written acknowledging that it was an abuse of my trust to take the songs and lie about them, that he was very sorry, wouldn’t do it again and that he will replace the CD’s he used.

Are you listening to this? Dude delivered me a fkking hand written note expressing sincere regret and request for forgiveness because he burned music off my computer.

So what happened to that Jimmy? He withered, faded, and… died? idk. probably. He at LEAST went on extended vacation… lost motivation career wise. knocked up a girl who couldn’t give .5 shits about him and became an aimless alcoholic un-interesting bland and boring puke-for-brains. sad. but add to that.

busstopMaybe he’ll see this blog some time and realize its all true and he’s failing majorly at his potential and it will start a life reformation that brings him back on the road to awesome. Or… more likely: Maybe he’ll see this blog some time and think to himself “wow. Richard sure is a punk ass faggot. I sure am glad that dipshit ain a roun no more. lets go play some bas” and swig back the last shot left in his can of Loser-Ale lager. Or, even more likely: maybe he’ll never see this blog and still think the same thing.

Where is the sporty businessman with the drive and ambition who’s dependable and true?

I’m afraid that bus may have left the station.

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