Story Time with Zee - The Polygraph Test

My divorce was far from a smooth friendly divorce. My ex tried to make it so that I was not able to see my kids. She did just about anything she could think of to try to keep me from being able to see my kids. One day I came home to find a card on my door from a detective at the local police department requesting that I call them as soon as possible. A few months previous to that I would have taken my cell phone out of my pocket and called the number before I even unlocked the door. I would have had faith in the system with a desire to help the detective in what ever way possible.

Lucky for me I was smarter then that when I read the card on my door. I did get my cell phone out of my pocket to make a call before unlocking my door but I did not call the detective. Instead I called one of my three lawyers who took the information and advised me to avoid talking to anyone at the police department. My lawyer called the detective and found out that I was being investigated for sexual abuse. This was the third time my ex made up stories about me sexually abusing one of my kids to try to keep me from seeing my kids. The first two times Child Protective Services talked to me and then talked to my son and they quickly came to the conclusion that what ever incident my ex was claiming happened did not happen. I don't know what story she was telling this time but it was extremely serious that the police department had an open investigation.

My lawyer told me what would most likely happen if the police had a chance to bring me in for a talk. The detective would be very friendly, he would hear what I had to say, he would say it sounds like a misunderstanding to him, and then he would suggest I take a polygraph to clear things up. If I agreed to the polygraph test then they would have me wait in a room for the test. They would have me wait for hours which would make me get anxious and worried. A police officer would come in and question me in an aggressive loud manner in an attempt to scare the shit out of me. At the point where I was all worked up they would ask me to take a polygraph test which may show false results based on my worked up condition.

My lawyer instead set up a polygraph test for me through an independent polygrapher... or whatever they are called. The independent polygrapher that I used used to work for the county and is very well known and respected by the police department that was investigating me. So I went in to take a polygraph to prove that I've never sexually abused my kids. I also requested that he add physical abuse just to prevent any other future accusations. So he hooked up sensor things on my fingers, wrists, and chest and asked me a series of questions that required 'yes' or 'no' answers. Throughout the questions each of the questions was asked twice but in different ways.

The test showed that I have never sexually or physically abused my kids and the investigation against me was closed right away. That is not the way the system should work though. So much for innocent until proven guilty. I had to prove my own innocence and between lawyer fees and the cost of the polygraph test it cost me about a thousand dollars. The cost for my ex to get an investigation against me was a phone call.

If Atheists Ruled the World

This video is hilarious to me. All text was taken directly from online Christian fundamentalist forums. Seriously some Christians are so flippin' stupid that its hilarious.

Dumb ass with the Lion

This is a featured video on YouTube today:





Am I the only one that thinks he is a complete dumb ass? Any guesses on how long it will be before he makes the news again for being used as a scratching post or lunchable?

Date Report for Uruk

Okay, per Uruk's request I'll tell about my date last weekend. For the purpose of writing about her in my blogs I will call my date "Aye".

I ran across Aye's online dating profile on Match.com about a week ago. It was short but I was very interested after reading it so I sent her a message, she replied, we talked on the phone, and then we agreed to meet this weekend for coffee. I didn't know it when I sent her the initial message but we actually went to high school together for a year, went to the same college, and I even worked at her current place of employment for a while. All that helped give us stuff to talk about that we had in common to get through that usually uncomfortable time when you first meet someone from online. Coffee went well so we went to Applebees and split and appetizers and had a few beers. Aye had told me on the phone that she doesn't like to talk a lot. Although I typically don't like to talk a lot in offline life I made an effort to on the date. At Applebees it was almost like "Story Time with Zee." When I went to Thailand I went with my friend who was from there and I came back with his little brother who went to school here for two years. Aye was friends with his little brother in high school so she was very intersted in Thailand stories. We wanted to go bowling but none of the lanes close had any open bowling so instead we went to a movie. We saw, "Fan Boys" which is about Star Wars fans breaking in to the Lucas Ranch. Neither of us are really into Star Wars but it was funny. During the movie I looked at her hand a few times and thought about holding it but didn't have the balls. One more example that the thought really does not count. The move was done around midnight and we walked to a bar and had a few more drinks and talked till about closing time. Somewhere between the bar and dropping her off at her house I was able to locate my balls so I did kiss Aye. All and all I think we both enjoyed the date because we decided to spend all day Saturday and most of the day Sunday together as well. So after three dates I'm still online bloggin' Uruk. We both have our kids next weekend so we are going to try to get together again on Thursday.

My marriage ended just over three years ago. In that three years I've been in a few relationships that lasted around three months. I've had a lot of first dates where I had absolutely no desire at all to pursue a second date. I've proposed marriage to strangers on the other side of the country via the internet. I made more of a connection with Aye in three days then I have with anyone else in the last three years by far.

You Must be a Crack Head

Google scans the content of pages and uses that information when selecting what advertisements are placed on that page. I think we all understand the idea, place ads that would interest the readers of that page. I decided to add some Google ads to my blog just to see what they would think the readers of this blog would be interested in. If you want to see yourself just scroll down and an ad will be on your right. When I just checked it now the following is what was being advertised.

• Loading...

• Drug Rehab Drug and Alcohol Rehab, Recovery Treatment and Detox. 24/7 Help Line www.ClarityWay.com

• Expensive, but Worth It Call our Resort-Class Rehab Hotline for Prompt, Expert Advice LuxuryDrugRehab.com/

So... apparently Google assumes co must be on drugs and/or an alcoholic to be reading my blog... If you see a different advertisement that is amusing please let me know in the comments.

Who the fuck...

Seriously... who the fuck writes anti-Calvinism poetry?

I understand why all Christians do not believe the same thing exact same thing but that is fuckin' sick. What you believe you are born sinful, that the wages of sin is eternal death, that Christ paid that price by dieing on the cross for you, and now you strive to serve God in your life? That's great... but how do you feel about free-will vs. predestination? What?!?!?!? Oh no!!!! You worship a rapist!!!!

Fuck that and the fuck the stroller you were pushed in on.

Story Time with Zee - Denmark 03/20/09

The people... err... The person has spoken through the poll and selected a story from my trip to Denmark over Thailand, Ireland, and the Dominican Republic. I didn't have any exciting experiences on this trip but I'll do my best with this Story Time with Zee.

The purpose of my visit to Denmark was to run a booth at a trade show with a customer from Sweden that I had at the time. I was working for a cleanroom company that manufactured cleanroom wall systems for the semi-conductor and pharmaceutical industries. This particular trade show was for Food and Pharmacy Technology so I was showing off the companies new pharmaceutical cleanroom wall system.

I flew out of Grand Rapids, Michigan to Detroit to Manchester to Copenhagen to my final destination in Denmark. I don't remember the name of my final destination but the airport was about 30 minutes outside of the city where the trade show was located. For story purposes I'll call that destination... Zeeville. Copenhagen has somewhat of a confusing airport but I was able to find my flight to Zeeville when I got there.

The plane had seats for about twenty people and there was a total of five other people on the flight with me excluding flight crew. Before the flight took off the tall flight attendant in a short black skirt with a white somewhat see through blouse stood at the front and went through what I assume was the typical put your seat belt there are the exits speech in Danish. She made a few more announcements that meant nothing to me when we landed and since I was the last one on the plane and sitting closest to the exit I was the first one off of the plane. As I walked off the plane on the the single runway I looked around to find the "airport" was surrounded by corn fields. In the distance I could see a farm house here and there and on the side of the runway there was a garage that looked like a maintenance building but that was it. I didn't see anything that looked like a terminal. I stood there with a what the fuck this is Zeeville feeling.

The other five passengers walked past me as I stood there confused and they walked to the maintenance garage so I followed them. I stood with them in a one stall garage wondering how I was going to get a ride to my bed a breakfast from there. The garage door opened and the bagage cart drove in with everyone's luggage. We all grabbed our bags and everyone else proceeded out a door on the opposite side so I followed them. Through the door was a small waiting room with an adjacent office that was closed. Outside there was one taxi. I quickly wrote down the number on the side of the taxi assuming one of the other five would get it first. I only had American currency because I had planned on using ATMs to get Danish currency.

To my surprise in the corner of the small waiting room there was an ATM so I got the currency I needed. After I got the money I was very happy to see that although everyone else had left the taxi was still in the parking lot. As I walked up he said something to me in Danish in a friendly voice. I said, "Fuck, I'm don't understand a word you said." He responded with, "Fuck, I'll speak English then." The taxi driver was in his mid 50's. The radio was already on in the car when I got in playing a song my Eminem. The taxi driver sang along to Eminem, Will Smith, and a variety of other random American artists. I'll never forget him bobbing his head singing,

With so much drama in the L-B-C
It's kinda hard bein Snoop D-O-double-G
But I, somehow, some way
Keep comin up with funky ass shit like every single day
May I, kick a little something for the G's (yeah)
and, make a few ends as (yeah!) I breeze, through
Two in the mornin and the party's still jumpin
cause my momma ain't home
I got bitches in the living room gettin it on
and, they ain't leavin til six in the mornin (six in the mornin)
So what you wanna do, sheeeit
I got a pocket full of rubbers and my homeboys do too
So turn off the lights and close the doors
But (but what) we don't love them hoes, yeah!
So we gonna smoke a ounce to this
G's up, hoes down, while you motherfuckers bounce to this

Rollin down the street, smokin endo, sippin on gin and juice
Laid back (with my mind on my money and my money on my mind)

Exes, TP, Soap, Numbers, Randomness

I enjoy saving money as much as the next guy but I just realized how ridiculous my ex-wife was about it. I just bought toilet paper for the first time since she left about two months ago because she would stock up when it was on sale. I am on my last huge jug of laundry soap that she left in the house when she left. It will be three years this week since she left. I don't intentionally keep track of dates like that but my mind is very math and number oriented and I tend to remember dates. There are about five dates throughout the year that I remember as an anniversary of a first date I had with different women. The really funny part is that I would never admit to a woman that I remember an anniversary of a first date because I think that is just plain stupid.

Prop 8

This is something that I think most Christians don't think about when they try to limit the rights of other Americans.

Looking for a Codependent

I recently made the observation that there are many normal, single, 30ish men available in this world, but very few normal, single, 30ish women. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty of single women that are 30ish but its the NORMAL part that is rare. Does that mean there are more normal men in the world than normal women? I don’t think so. I think it means there are lots of normal women who married fucked up men. And I imagine that is because those fucked up men reminded those women of their fathers, but that’s another story.

So it seems logical to me that what I need to do is be fucked up. Very fucked up. Bat shit crazy fucked up. What I really want is my own codependent.

Consider a drug addict and what is most stunning is not that addicts can heat up a Vicodin in a spoon and then inject it straight into a vein without burning themselves, but that they have people who will do ANYTHING to help them. People who will give them cash, drive them to their dealer’s house, sob their eyes out when the addict screams at them, trashes their house, prostitutes themselves, and steals shit. People who are willing to stick around for YEARS while this other person self destructs and sucks dry every person near them.

I can understand what it feels like to be those enabling codependents. In life, that has definitely been the direction I have leaned. But I've realized something: I don’t want to be an enabler. I want to be the enable-ee! I want to be the addict! Other than the addiction, their lives are AWESOME!

So here you go, your opportunity to give and give and give and have your life mean something!

I plan to develop an addiction to pain pills, preferably Vicodin because it’s so easy to get, and you get to be my codependent! I imagine it will take 6 months to a year before I need to start stealing stuff to buy them, so you’ll get lots of drug-soaked sex in that time, and that will cement our bond.

After I lose my job I’ll really hit that next step up of having to numb my pain over the loss of my hopes and dreams. This is where you will have to move in with me to really take care of my day to day needs and pay all the bills.

I’ll double the amount of Vicodin I need and probably have to start giving blow jobs to my dealer. To keep me from degrading myself you’ll give me cash, telling yourself that at least you can make sure I don’t get some horrible disease. Whenever you try to withhold the money to get me to sober up (you don’t REALLY want me to do this because deep down you know it would ruin our relationship, but you feel noble when you try to demand it) I will threaten to kill myself or I’ll stomp out of the house and down to 1st Ave and pretend I am trying to turn a trick. You’ll drive up in your car and lower the passenger window, driving 2 mph beside me while I pretend I am trying to walk away from you. You’ll be begging me to forgive you and “just get in the damned car.” After 5 minutes of this awesome drama you’ll “talk” me back into the car, and while I sob into your arms, you’ll agree to drive me to my dealer’s and score some more Vicodin. Which you will pay for so I won’t blow him. Secretly I am already blowing with him because I am using WAY more Vicodin than you know! We’ll repeat this scene weekly.

Soon I will graduate from the “vanilla” world of pill-popping and on to shooting up. I’m great with needles and veins so this will be a dream come true! After watching me ruin all the spoons in the house with my lighter, and finding me on the floor passed out with a needle sticking out of my arm you’ll find out what love really means!

Every day when you are at work I will send you hundreds of text messages and voice mails about how miserable I am and how I couldn’t live without you (and Vicodin). You will cry when you get these because you know I am a good person and I am hurting so much (I’ll have told you all about how my father was emotionally absent and I was teased mercilessly in middle school), and that I just need to be loved and then I will get better. While you know you are a loser to put up with me, you really love being needed like this. And who could possibly need you more than your previously handsome, competent, intelligent, now totally fucked up addict boyfriend?

I see this as a win-win situation. You will get to recreate your relationship with your father and feel needed. I will finally get to date a woman who is normal, caring, and loving (and if you’re not I’ll just take another Vicodin).

Story Time with Zee 3/10/09 - Date with a Crack Whore

I have used a number of online dating sites with varied success. The one that I have used for the longest is www.plentyoffish.com because it is free. The problem with plentyoffish (POF) is that there are a lot of uneducated and unintelligent women there. It had occurred to me that what I liked best about the site, being free, may be resulting in the less then desirable population that is there. A friend of mine suggested Match.com and so I checked it out. In general the women on Match.com were appeared a lot more educated so I signed up and started contacting women. After a month or so I had absolutely no responses. Then one Sunday I had a woman contact me so I was excited. She didn't have a picture which means at least one of a few things. She is insecure, she is ugly, or wants a guy who is primarily attracted to her mind not her body. We sent a few messages back and forth then she asked if I wanted to meet her at a local bar that night and I agreed to meet her.

Nine times out of ten a women who doesn't post a picture is not very attractive looking so I was happy to see that she was pretty. We talked for a while and were making some connections and we started talking about tattoos. She had a number of tattoos which I find attractive. She had a tribal band on her arm around the number 28 and I asked the significance of the number 28. She explained that it was her high school boyfriend's football number. I responded with, "At least its not his name." It was at that point that she pulled her hair to the side revealing "Steve" tattooed on her neck. Awkward. I wish this was the most disturbing point in the date.

We continued to talk and she said that she wanted to be completely honest with me. I'm all about honesty and I told her that I would appreciate that. She told me that she has used drugs in the past but she stopped using. I told her that wasn't a big deal to me and that I've used drugs in the past as well. She asked about the last time that I used and I told her how it was about ten years ago and explained to her why I quit. I asked her when the last time she used was and her response, "I smoked a little crack this morning." Awkward. I really wanted to tell her that she has to stop using for at least 24 hours before she can claim she quit.

I had just paid for another round of beers before she told me about her current crack addiction even though she claimed she quit. Granted it was dollar beer night but I paid for my beer and I was going to finish it before I left. When I finished my beer I was ready to give the, "It was nice to meet you. Don't call me. Good luck with life." talk but she asked me a question before I could give the talk. "Zee, will you take me to buy some crack." Ahh.... no. "Okay, I understand. Can you spot me $20 and I'll get it and meet you back here." Ahh... no. "Its kewl Zee I understand. Will you wait here for me while I go walk the streets till I can make $20 to buy crack?" Ahh... Fuck no. Good luck prostituting yourself tonight. Buh-bye. Awkward. Thinking back, at least she didn't ask me to pay to have sex with her... that was some what respectful of her.

Zee's Scare Tonight

When I had an AK-47 pointed at my chest on my way to Burma I was truly scared. When February gripped his shovel showing intentions of beating me with it I was truly scared. When a group of men with machetes tried to stop my car in the Dominican I was truly scared. Tonight, I was truly scared.

My neighbor send me a text message when I was at work reminding me that she was having a celebration for her birthday at the gay club tonight starting at 9:00 and she wanted me to be there. I got there closer to 10:00 and walked around expecting to see the neighbors that I usually see there. Instead I saw primarily women, a few of which were dressed like men. That's not uncommon but these women were taking it a few steps further and had drawn on facial hair and what not. I didn't see anyone I knew and got a number of dirty looks from women as I glanced from table to table looking for a familiar face. I then noticed the sign... Friday is Drag King night. I sent texts to a couple of the people I expected to see and told them where I was and asked where they would be. They responded with they would be there shortly.

Normally in that situation I would find a table with people at it that didn't seem engaged with each other. I'd approach the table tell them I'm waiting for friends, tell a few jokes, and maybe a story or two and make new friends. I have not and I will not approach people like that at the gay bar. A lot of women there don't just prefer the company of women they truly dislike men. Men there may or may not get the wrong idea if I did that and I wouldn't chance it to find out.

I tried to just play it cool and stand on the wall and people watch, which is one of my favorite things to do. I continued to get dirty looks from women and decided to just look at the floor and wait. A woman 'bumped' into me and when I looked up she said, "What the fuck?!?!?!" I was scared. There is no way I wanted to get my ass beat by a bunch of women. I will not hit a woman even if she is beating the shit out of me.

"I am sorry, my bad." Was my reply. She didn't look satisfied... she just stood there staring me down. I looked around. I'm not sure if I was looking for help or looking for the nearest exit. If I had made it to an exit I'm sure I could out run her. Screaming like a woman and running like a man is often a very effective way to avoid an ass whoppin'. As I looked around I saw Tony my neighbor so I shouted to him in my gayest voice possible, "Tony! There you are!" Man hating lesbians don't seem to be as threatened by gay men. She bought it and walked away.

Drag King night turned out to be scary in general. These women would come out looking like men and dance and the other women would shout and cheer and give them dollars. They all were charged up and very aggressive. Given the choice I'd rather be on that bridge again then face to face with a woman who is ready to kick my ass in a gay bar.

The Atheist Delusion

I understand this guy is mocking Christians but in my opinion he is right about some of them. I enjoy all his videos.

Why you should hook your friend up with Zee

Hey, I know the reasons not to hook up your friend with Zee but this is why you should. I am a very good geek with a great heart who treats people good and treats a woman even better. I'm looking for a real relationship. I offer honesty, intellectually stimulating conversation, some good laughs, and a bit of adventure. As an added bonus I have a good job, a car, and I don't do drugs! Do you think your friend is up for it?

Online Fail Dating 03/03/09

Well, I haven't seen much new on the blogs I follow so I'm going to have to kill some time by writing another blog.

My modified online dating profile was successful and increased the number of responses. A woman that I originally started talking to on a different dating site, ChristianMingle.com, found my profile on the site I primarily use now which is PlentyOfFish.com. We started talking again and we are going to go out soon so I changed my headline to read, "Not Currently Looking." I have no desire to date more than one woman at once. I've been down that road and its confusing and not fair to anyone involved even if they say they are okay with it. Despite the headline I still get messages and this is an example of one of them which is fairly common.

Subject: "your awesome"

My awesome what? The subject alone I consider a fail.

Message: "hi there my name is jennifer. I am so impressed with your profile. i haved lived in Muskegon all my life and this town is hard to find a good thing in anymore. Good Luck in your search but i would love to chat with you sometime. im me at XXXXXXX. your sense of humor is good thing dont let anyone tell you differently. sorry i dont have a picture of my penis to send you. LOL"

I give her bonus points for her attempt at humor by referencing my joke in my profile about not responding to messages from women that include pictures of their penis. She really didn't expand on my joke at all but referencing it shows she actually read my profile. Granted there are a lot of online dating profiles that are full of grammical errors or TyPinG LikE tHIs but I took the time to use proper grammar and capitolization and such in writing my profile. I listed in my profile that I am looking for someone that is intelligent and intellectually stimulating. How much more time would it have taken for her to reread her message to me and at least try to write properly? Fail number two.

Out of curiousity I checked out her dating profile. It turns out that her daughter is much closer to my age then she is. I find shared life experiences are more important then age but I don't have any mommy issues either. Fail number three which adds up to an epic fail.

Am I picky when it comes to women? Extremely. Too picky? Perhaps, but I know what I want and what I don't want and I am happy being single. The girl that I'm currently interested in who I'm going out with soon does not live in the United States and I don't think I'll be able to make travel arrangements by this weekend so I probably won't be able to go for two weeks.

I post this blog with the assumption that the woman who wrote me this message will never read it. If you are the author of the message and read this please know that its not my intention to insult you and I hope you can perhaps find some constructive critism in it. That said, to anyone else I ask, is it inappropriate for me to post such a blog?

Story Time with Zee 03/02/09

The Gun in Thailand that Made Zee Piss his Pants... Almost

During the month I spent in Thailand I took a five day trip to the northern most point of Thailand in the Chiangrai province. It was on my trip to Chaingrai that I saw fields of opium, stayed in a hut that backed up to a whore house, and went to the Golden Triangle. The Golden Triangle is the area in southeast Asia where Thailand, Burma, and Laos meet and was named the Golden Triangle because it was the area that produced the most amount of opium in the world. In 1999 when I was in Thailand it was no longer legal to grow opium but it was still grown in some areas of Thailand and was commonly grown in Burma. While there my group decided to take a day trip to Burma because although everything is cheap in Thailand its even cheaper in Burma.

Burma is not a very stable country to this day and nor was it stable in 1999. There were a number of groups that claimed to be the official government including one military group that was lead by a 12 year old boy. I think they were referencing this in the movie "Tropic Thunder" if you have seen that movie.

My group consisted of two other Americans, three Thais, and myself. We stopped at a bank to get cash before we crossed the bridge that went over the river dividing Thailand from Burma. I could see the bridge from the bank and as the others got money out of the bank I stood outside and watched as people freely walked each way over the bridge. As I walked with my group across the bridge I walked along the edge and looked down at the rushing river that was below. I heard shouting but I didn't think anything of it at first since I could understand a word of it. We were just over halfway across the bridge and I realized the rest of my group had stopped moving and I was now at the front of the group. The shouting got louder and when I looked up I saw four men in military uniforms running at us from the Burma side of bridge with what looked like AK47's raised and aimed at us. The first one ran directly at me, I looked back at my group and they all had their hands raised in the air so I raised my hands in the air as well.

The first man stopped about five feet away from me with his gun aimed at my chest and shouted something. I kept my hands raised and said, "I'm sorry, I don't understand." The next two did the same thing to the other Americans and the fourth shouted the most and moved his gun around pointing it at all of us. It felt I stood there in confusion for hours with a gun pointed at me but in reality it was probably only seconds. Everyone in our group looked terrified but the oldest Thai gentleman started talking the the individual that was doing most of the shouting who seemed to be in charge. He then explained to the group that the toll to cross the bridge was 20 USD.

The entire time we stood there people walked past us and continued on towards Burma without paying any toll but I was more then willing to pay the toll. They lead our entire group across the bridge never lowering their guns. We went into a guard shack on the other side where we each gave 20 USD to the leader. Once we had paid the 'toll' they lowered their guns and the leader shouted another order. It was obvious that he did not understand the concept of an inside voice. It was translated to me that we could leave now but based on his tone and body language I believe he told us to get the fuck out.

Okay, I didn't actually piss my pants but I think that if I had not just used the bathroom I probably would have not only pissed my pants but also shat them as well.