Sunday, October 25, 2009

Maybe I'm a prick

Things I say on this blog often come out wrong. Between the stress of living like a bum and everything that goes along with it, a blog is the worst possible way to share a story like Aimless.

You have no idea how much work it takes just to stay alive on the road. I want to tell you everything, good and bad. I want to show you videos of all the things that happen to me and around me. I want to GIVE you something that no one else on this planet can give you because I know it would absolutely blow your mind. But it's impossible for me to give you everything I want to give you because one person can only do so much.

Life on the road usually is not very fun. Mostly it's lonely; a kind of loneliness you cannot understand unless you've spent several consecutive months living outside, among millions of people you'll never know, usually far from anyone you do know. People come in and out of your life as frequently as air enters and exits your lungs. It's cold and it's hot. It's painful and incredibly stressful. In short, it sucks most of the time. However, in between all the things that tear you down and beat you up, there are great moments and great people that make it worth all the pain and discomfort to keep doing what I do.

Now that I'm pretty sure nothing is ever going to become of Aimless, I have to start protecting my own health and sanity a little better. One way I intend to do that is by getting rid of the major sources of stress in my Aimless life, beginning with this blog. I probably won't stop blogging entirely, but I'm not going to make any extra effort to keep cranking out posts that don't say what I really want to say.

With all the time I've spent on the road these last few years, I have an incredible story to tell. I can tell you countless amazing stories that no one else can tell you because no one else has the balls to do what I've done; because no one else is as honest as I am.

Aimless really should be a TV series, and it almost certainly will be a book (or ten) someday. But Aimless is not going to be a regularly updated blog anymore because I'm sick of killing myself to entertain people, many of whom do not appreciate the sacrifices I make for their FREE entertainment. (And if you think I'm being an asshole here, you're one of the people I'm talking about.)

As you probably already know, I've recently taken an unplanned departure from the road because I need to spend as much time as possible with my beautiful and special cat, who is probably going to die soon, after only three and a half short years of life. For the first several months of Twerky's life, I was the only person he would allow to come near him. To this day, less than a handful of people have ever managed to touch him without me holding him. This cat means more to me than anyone or anything because, unlike any human being, he loves me and is completely honest with me. (Most people could learn something very valuable from him.)

I intend to hit the road again after my little man leaves me. However, with a promising new feline leukemia treatment available (which he'll begin in two days), I hope I can instead leave once he starts feeling better. So I don't really know when I might hit the road again. All I know is that I want to be in Santa Monica no later than early February to begin the coast-to-coast walk I've mentioned here once or twice.

Why, you may ask, do I want to do this coast-to-coast walk?

Answer: Because I can. Because I can do anything I tell you I can do. Because if there is something I can't do, I won't hesitate to admit I can't do it.

Here are a couple other things I can do (that almost no one else can do):
  1. Operate a ridiculously successful and profitable independent pizzeria;
  2. Create and host one of the most interesting and insightful television shows in the history of TV.

Oh yeah, and the production costs of such a TV show would be only a fraction of just about every other show out there, mostly because I bust my ass and lead by example.

Of course, for either of those things to happen, I first need to meet a wise investor who actually has money to invest. Unfortunately, I live in the United States of America, where most people, especially those with any power, are full of shit and incompetent at doing their jobs.

This is precisely why the economy is so fucked up. It's because we, as a nation, have created an impatient, uninsightful culture of dishonesty and we don't use our resources wisely. (I know 'uninsightful' is not a word. It should be.)

Bullshit should no longer be in demand, now that we've let the best bullshitters ruin us. For reasons I'll never understand, though, we keep craving the bullshit while ignoring those with true insight, and we never learn. That's why we're all hurting.

We don't even know how to learn the hard way anymore. When we fuck everything up--when we do all the things that should teach us a valuable lesson on how not to do things--we just keep doing everything the same way we did it before.

Wake up.

Or call me negative and pretend I'm responsible for your misery.

Just remember: I could be the guy who gives you the best job you'll ever have. That is, in a functional economy governed by supply and demand instead of bullshit, I could be the guy who gives you the best job you'll ever have. Or maybe you could be the person who gives me the best job I'll ever have, which might possibly be the best hire you'll ever make.

If this didn't come out how I wanted it to come out, I don't care. I have no reason to care.

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Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Miss it yet?

Partly thanks to an unexpected ride from Tara (who I mentioned a few weeks ago after seeing her outside Ohio Stadium), I made it "home" to my cat Sunday afternoon. I've spent a lot of time the last couple days searching the internet for information regarding natural treatments for feline leukemia. My boy is doing sorta not really OK right now, but I intend to bring him back and make him healthy again, even though he's been given a quick death sentence by his vet.

I don't have much interest in writing about my travel experiences anymore. I may upload one more video soon, though, which will probably blow your mind. (I don't know; I haven't watched the footage yet.)

I can't tell you even a fraction of this story, and I can show you even less because my unpaid job requires at least ten times as much work as any other job. You don't know what you've been missing, but it's better than all the shit you haven't been missing on TV.

You had the chance to help me make something out of this, but you chose not to. If I never hit the road again or write another blog post here, you'll miss it more than I'll miss it.

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Thursday, October 15, 2009

I pulled out the camera

I pulled out the camera tonight while a stupid Lansing, Illinois cop was fucking with me. This footage should be really good; probably hilarious.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Sorry I've been so bitchy

Sorry I've been so bitchy and grouchy lately. Things are really tough sometimes, and the last week has been one of the toughest (yet greatest?).

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Fuck it all

My computer is worthless. I can do absolutely nothing with it. Literally, I cannot do ANYTHING with it. If I could do anything with it, I wouldn't be using my phone to write this post. I have added nothing to the computer since the day I took it out of the box, yet it keeps telling me "Low Disk Space." Then when I follow the directions to free up some space, it won't let me do it. What the fuck!?! --> I'm at the Starbuck's where I met Meredyth, hoping she'll show up and provide some good company because she made it a point to let me know she comes here a lot. I came here last night, too, for the same reason, but no sign of her. Understandably, I don't expect to see her tonight, either, specifically because I really want to see her. That's my biggest problem: sometimes I want things. If I didn't want anything, my life would be perfect. I'll be leaving Chicago tomorrow, so whatever.

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Sunday, October 11, 2009

I know you're laughing at me

I met a girl tonight. Her name is Meredyth. (I think I spelled it right.) We talked for a few hours before she left Starbuck's. I didn't want her to leave. Either that or I wanted her to take me with her. She will read this. She should call me.

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Saturday, October 10, 2009


Feel crazy today.

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GloZell Booby Betty Emmy

Brian and Jacob: I think I told you about this picture. It's Betty White staring at GloZell's booby while GloZell holds her friend Mary's new Emmy. Some of y'all may remember me meeting GloZell at the Tonight Show a little over a year ago. GloZell and Mary rule (and they had better become fans of Aimless pretty soon, too).

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I'm all messed up right now. Clay Hall from channel 6 called me yesterday several hours before I received the bad news about my sweet, beautiful, special cat. Clay and I are figuring on meeting at Purdue next Friday or Saturday, I suppose to do a live segment in conjunction with the stuff they taped last week.

I don't know if I should stay out here for another week or head back to Ohio ASAP to be with my sweet little bubbly ubbly so I can show him how much I love him. I feel like if I don't head back right away, I might end up regretting it. Even though he seemed very healthy when I left a couple weeks ago, it was so hard for me to just walk away from him. Man, this is so wrong.

A few caring individuals stopped by my tent this morning at 6:30 to give me a sack of food. The two women and one man were making the rounds to feed homeless people after a very cold night. In my sack there's a ham (or salami) sandwich, Ruffles, Rice Krispies Treat, apple sauce, pudding, a cookie, and a Kool-Aid Jammer (cherry). I wish I'd been alert enough to tell them to google 'Aimless' or something so they might find their way here and find out how much I appreciate their selfless act of kindness.

I'm really confused right now; having a hard time holding back the tears. I want so badly for there to be some kind of life after death so I can someday be with all my dear feline buddies who were (or will be) taken between the ages of 2 and 4: T-werk, Pinky, Homer, the Sammys, Skipper, and so many others. I love them all so much, and as much as I want to believe in some kind of life after death sometimes, I just can't see it being real.

I don't know. I admit it often seems as if there may be some kind of plan for me, even though I've pretty much never received anything I want from life (particularly love). Even though some of you certainly think I'm a major prick, an eerily high percentage of the people I meet tell me straight out that they feel like I was delivered into their lives to inspire them in one way or another. And I mean every day, too. From hopeless junkies to, well, every kind of person there is. Not just people I meet, either. I get e-mails from people who have watched my videos and read this blog. All these things are so overwhelming, and I don't know if I can take much more of it. I feel like I'm gonna pop, or that it's all gonna end soon. Like when that car almost ran me over; maybe that was just to prepare me for the real thing.

As big-headed as this may seem, the things that happen to me every day are all starting to make me wonder if I'm some kind of chosen healer or something. In fact, these thoughts, as well as the actions that create them, are really beginning to freak me out because I don't want them. But it's every day; many times a day. Constantly.

I mean, y'all know I'm as honest as they come (or, at least, you should realize that by now). Whenever I write something here, even as wild as some things may seem, you should know I never lie or even stretch the truth. Even when I know my words will make me look like a major asshole in the eyes of many, I still tell it like it is because I believe strongly that total honesty is the one thing that might be able to save this wrecked civilization. (Honestly, though, I think we're fucked. Our collective selfishness and lack of integrity is so far out of control that we all seem to think it's the normal and right way to behave. We all want to fuck everyone else over before they fuck us over, and that's what's fucking us all over.)

I just don't get it. I've always felt so unworthy and unwanted. Now, many years after high school, in addition to all the feedback I receive from people I inspire, I've also come to realize that a lot of girls in high school were very interested in being someone special to me. But I never knew then. And now I see it every day while I'm on the road from women I encounter. Even dressed as a bum, I can tell there are plenty of women out there who see me as someone who could be someone special in their lives. Yet over the span of my life, every time I've ever tried to ask out a girl, I've been shot down in flames big-time. So I just don't get it. And nowadays, after so much repeated failure throughout, I have very little motivation to try anymore.

Is this going anywhere, or am I just ranting incoherently? Look, I already told you I'm confused.

Anyway, if there are any ladies out there who honestly wonder within your own heart if maybe I could become someone special in your life, and/or that you could become someone special in my life, either for a while or forever, call me. We all put up so many bullshit barriers of fear which keep us from living our lives how we should live them, and this love/intimacy barrier seems to be one of a few barriers I just can't break through. But I'm ready to meet someone special, and I guess this is my first attempt to break down the very thick wall I've built around myself. I know there is at least one person out there reading this who would like to find out if I might be "the one," or even just a great friend, so do it.

Even with all the seemingly hostile and negative things I write sometimes, I wonder: Have I found a way to touch your heart a little bit? If so, reach out and touch mine because I really need that right now. It might just turn out to be the best investment you'll ever make.

Yeah, I know it doesn't seem right to be talking about some of this stuff while I prematurely mourn the loss of a great friend, but that's just how my brain works right now. If you were out here doing this, you'd understand.

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Friday, October 09, 2009

When the shit hits the fan

So now I just found out that my 3-year-old tripod cat has leukemia and may be dead in a month, even though he used to test negative; even though he stays isolated from other cats.

What the fuck kind of cruel joke is this?!? Everything I love dies or just goes away without an explanation. Every fucking time.

I may have to go "home" now to spend some time with my best little buddy while I still can.

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Happy thoughts

Man, I have so much to say about Chicago, but I probably won't find the time. There are at least a couple pics on deck to publish, but who knows if I'll ever text the words to go with the pics.

Everything was going great until I read those comments yesterday. Obviously it really pissed me off. It actually ruined my day and spun me and my vibe 180 degrees. And no, I won't regret saying what I said in that post; I'll just regret that I had to say it. I already do. But I'm not just going to pretend shit like that doesn't happen. It may be easy for the other people involved to pretend it never happened, but I can't because I'm a real person with real emotions and real, marketable, valuable talents and skills.

Anyway, it's time to move on and start sharing happy thoughts again. The things I want to write about include: Wrigley Field, Terry (a homeless heroin addict who's been my neighbor the last couple nights), a guy named Tom who I bumped into in two different Starbuck's[es] several miles apart, and probably more stuff I can't think of right now.

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That Starbucks

Hey Jacob and Brian,

That Starbuck's I was trying to find is at the southwest corner of Lake & La Salle. It's really big and comfortable (and dry).

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Thursday, October 08, 2009


To the anonymous commenter who keeps telling me to come "home" for new glasses and boots and shit:

As you may recall, Anonymous, I went "home" a few weeks ago, walking 19 miles one day when I was only in shape to walk about 12. Two hours after my arrival, ridiculously tired and sore, I found myself handcuffed in the back of a sheriff's cruiser, just because someone at "home" is a total fucking prick who can't mind his own business, is unable to peacefully resolve the conflicts he starts, and lies to cops specifically in an effort to have his own son thrown in jail.

Talk about a sick fucking mind...

I'll go blind before I accept any more charity from you. I don't want glasses that have been paid for with your money, just like I didn't want the $100 you left on the desk. Additionally, I left my boots behind because I wear sandals now.

I could have made you rich by now, fuckers, because I am THE BEST at what I do. (I'm not talking about Aimless, either, even though I also do this better than anyone else out here.)

Do you remember how fast the 33 lbs of pizza I made at your party disappeared? (Yeah, and I was drunk as hell when I made the last six pies.) Even if I'd been able to make another twenty 16" pizzas, it still wouldn't have been enough.

And have you figured out yet why that wouldn't have been enough? Yeah, well it's because I am the best at what I do, even with mega inadequate equipment and ingredients. It's because I possess a set of skills that only another handful of people on this planet possess. It's a set of skills that's in demand big-time, in an age where there isn't anyone out there who can do it, which makes it worth a lot of money to anyone who understands the law of supply and demand. Unfortunately, there are also only a handful of people who both understand supply & demand and have money to invest.

As is evidenced by this global recession, we have officially entered the "Really Fucking Retarded Age" of human history.

You told me you were on my side, but you lied. You must be the two stupidest people on the face of the earth because, as you may remember, I immediately backed us out of the business "opportunity" that, as we all know now, would have broken you. If you haven't figured it out yet, it's because I understand the market; I understand what makes some businesses fail and others succeed. And it really doesn't take a fucking genius to figure this shit out.

You made me believe you intended to invest in my unique and valuable talents. But whenever it came time for you to put up or shut up, you neither put up nor shut up. You have lied to me too many times for me to ever trust you again. But the kicker is that you tried to have me put in jail when you saw me for the first time in two months.

Fuck you.

You can't just undo that, and that's the one act for which you most definitely will never be forgiven, Claudia. As I stood there, tired, crying, begging you to show your son you have a heart, you just stood there and let them cuff me. You just stood there and let them abuse me.

That's your house, bitch, and they can't do that shit in your house without your consent. But you let them do it, and now you have to face the consequences.

Larry and Claudia Powell: You decided before I was 5 years old that I was a fucking worthless piece of shit. Well, you were really god-damn wrong, and it's your loss, OK. So don't comment on my blog anymore, acting like we're kin because we're not kin. And don't call me. And shut off my phone if you want because I don't want anything more to do with you. The only reasons I even stayed "home" for a week were 1) I love my cat, and 2) you were gone.

Don't even think about commenting on this one, people, because you have no fucking clue. That especially includes you, Jay.

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Wednesday, October 07, 2009

Jacob & Brian

Jacob (right) and Brian are followers of Aimless. They live in northwest suburban Chicago and came into the city yesterday to meet me. Very cool. (I think Luke is the only other 'fan' I'd made a coordinated effort to meet on the road prior to this.) I met up with these guys downtown in mid afternoon, following some pretty crappy weather (cold rain). They felt like friends right away, as we talked below an el structure. Soon we went to a Starbuck's and talked for a while, before heading to Lou Malnatti's for some real Chicago deep dish pizza, where we ordered a 14" sausage pizza. I'm not usually much of a sausage fan, but this was good stuff. This was my first time eating real Chicago pizza, and I have to say it was damn good. I can't really compare it to New York pizza, though, because the two styles are entirely different animals. Hope to have some more before I leave Chicago, which
won't happen for at least a week because I bought a 7-day transit pass today. Thanks, guys!

Monday, October 05, 2009

Not meeting a Focker

I could totally fit the Sears Tower in my backpack if I wanted to. I always thought that thing looked smaller than they say it is. It certainly was built in a very forgettable era of architecture, eh. Soldier Field (where I took this pic) will be a fine place to sleep for a few nights. I should actually be able to enjoy some things in Chicago that cost money because I received a big donation Friday from Nick, who gave me a ride from Martinsville to Bloomington. --> Ha! I just happened upon an interesting sight. They're shooting 'Little Fockers' here in Grant Park right now. (I didn't know they were making another Focker movie.) The security dude told me DeNiro is here on the set, but I can't see shit. For all I know, he might be right in front of me. They have a much bigger security perimeter here than I think they would have if this was LA. --> I'm really glad I finally made it to Chicago. Fortunately the weather has been nice so far.

Slept downtown beside the Chicago

Slept downtown beside the Chicago River, near Columbus Dr. No one bothered me, which is good because I really needed the rest. Feet are torn up.

Sunday, October 04, 2009

I'm in Chicago, but I

I'm in Chicago, but I can't see it because I have no glasses. Chicago people, call me if you want to meet.


Sorry about the false alarm (for anyone who may have prepared to record me on channel 6). I thought Clay was planning to do a live interview, but they ended up taping it, possibly to air in a week or two. (He just called and told me he'll let me know when it airs.) During the interview, I felt really relaxed and almost unaware that there was a camera in my face. Nice feeling. Anyway, Indiana's fans are kick-ass tailgaters. The way they party, you'd think IU had a football program with a winning tradition. It was a slow start, but I met some really cool folks today, particularly Forest and his crew. Hanging out at these football games is very tiresome, though; I'm beat. --> Things have been going really good lately. It's been fun again, despite the constant pain you feel when you push your body so far beyond its limits. I think I actually enjoy the pain of sore muscles and hunger. And I
like people, too. Maybe I'll head toward Chicago now. There are some "fans" there I'd like to meet.

Saturday, October 03, 2009

I'll probably be on WSYX

I'll probably be on WSYX channel 6 (Columbus) sometime around 3:00 today, with Clay Hall. If anyone can record it or DVR it, you rock.

Friday, October 02, 2009

From IU's Memorial Stadium in fewer than 1 001 characters

The temp was in the 40s near Dayton two nights ago. My face was cold as I walked, yet my sandaled feet were very warm. From Dayton I got a ride yesterday to the Indiana state line with a 64-year-old ex-trucker who likes to bang chicks. After waiting at the Richmond on-ramp for a couple hours, I got a ride with a 50ish professional guy named John. When I mentioned to him that I'd taken some geology classes in college, I saw him light up in an instant. Y'see, it turned out that John is a geologist who was on his way to Terre Haute to check out the stability of the ground surrounding a dam. He let me out on the south side of Indy, at Rte 37, so I could head toward Bloomington, where the Buckeyes play tomorrow. A cop gave me a ride a few miles because a driver called 911 to report that another pedestrian was stalking me in the darkness. I found out that my rain gear is awesome in heavy rain
when used properly. I've walked more miles in the last week than I did the previous two months.