Embrace Thyself

I’m gonna lay it out there.
I’m gonna let it hang loose…

I’m gonna expose myself, but without the execution of an embarrassing arrest warrant; only the satisfactory and titillating reward of this wondrous, handsome stack of man pie.


I am a bitch.
I am a cry baby.
I am a drama king.
Sometimes I am a drama queen, depending on if my dramatic expostulations(?) have reached panty stage or not.

I complain non-stop.
My wife drinks…a lot.
“You drink too much”
“Because you complain too much”
Catch 22…?
x – y= Pfffftttt!


I think it’s because my needs aren’t being met or attended to in a fashion that merits their importance and/or my expectations of aforementioned needs as indicated…uh… Aforementioned, earlier…. .

I am a nit-picker.
I am a clean freak.
I hate empty ice trays and the people that don’t refill them.

I hate white people.


Yes, I know I am Caucasianul nongrata…that’s not the point.
If I hate white people, I’ll be like everyone else and not be a racist anymore.

I am a racist.
I am a bigot.
I hate things I don’t understand.
That’s why I hate Chinese and people from Brooklyn…
I go thru life pretty hateful then….
I don’t understand a lot of things but, that’s because no one will explain anything to me so I can understand it.

Like….women and the Rubiks cube.


Why do women get pregnant all the time?
Why can’t we just have sex all of the time without worrying about compromising after effects…?
My new word for kids…
After effects….or Dirty, stinky, selfish, little, ankle biting Bastards….
I like that one best.
Describes them quite nicely, what…  


You know what else?
….just thought of this.
It’s kinda weird how guys can have sex with each other all the time and they never get knocked up…

Proof positive that women use sex to trap us into a meaningful and fulfilling relationship.

I love you, honey.

I like pedicures.
I am a man.
I am not gay.
My toes look great.
I am not gay.


I use baby wipes for everything.
I wash my hands, constantly.
I have never gone blind playing with myself but, I do need reading glasses now to read the Penthouse forum stories…..

I trust in God but, that’s because my money tells me to.
E Pluribus Unum(?) sounds like a criminal act committed online on one of those “stroking” sites.

I hate buttermilk.
I hate tomatoes.
I hate cabbage.
I hate Irish people.
I don’t know why I just said that….
Do Irish people like cabbage?
Hmm, I thought it was the Germans.



I’m weird….
I should wear a helmet and a bib when I talk to grown ups….

I should quit picking my nose.
But, the rewards!

I have nice boobs for a dude….
I am totally and completely….nay….resoundingly bored on this Good Friday.
I hate obvious things….

Have a great weekend and I’m sorry you wasted your time.

I hate blog readers.
So needy….

Ded Man

I have the flu, or I’m “having” the flu.

I haven’t had the flu in over 40 years!

I NEVER get sick unless it’s self induced by bad social habits.

But, after I turned 50 years old, my genetic super-powers appear to have begun waning.

It’s not too bad quite yet, that’s why I wanted to make a quick record before my passing.

I am a dude.

Dudes do not make good sick people.

My wife is 200 miles away and I am lying in my truck waiting for Deaths cool hand on my forehead.

At this moment, there is a large, invisible drill bit boring into my skull just above my right temple.

There are frequent booty burps and gasping stomach cramps.

I’m going down fast…. And hard.

Here’s my report, before I lose consciousness.

Trey’s Flu Progression (or decent into hell)
1) Feeling… Off kilter. Like a slight caffeine buzz without the euphoria. More like… Shit.

2) Flushed face, heartbeat in left eyeball… Shit.

3) Head no longer connected to body

4) Mouth tastes like a litter box with puke in it with a side of SHIT!

5) Pink elephants

6) Sudden desire to repent and confess sins.

7) “Is that you Ma, it’s so dark”

8) Very grateful for cool side of pillow; weeping.

9) God hates me

10) Is it possible to kill myself with Thera-flu and ramming the thermometer into my ear…

11) “Win it for the Gipper, guys”

12) Stabbing, clawing body aches that make me say “Christ” or “Jesu’Christos” or “Holy shit, what was that?!”

13) Why is God trying to kill me?

14) Pepto-Bismol is a lie!!

15) Shoulda robbed a bank while I had a chance…

Newest Sensation:
A}  Stabbing stomach pangs
B} Chills

P. S: I feel like shit. But hey, only 45 more hours of wretchedness and throat ripping dry heaves

A Few Minutes In Love


When you take my hand it’s not my fault that I forget how to breathe.

It’s no fault of mine, when you touch me, that I have a hard time remembering what I was thinking or what I was about to say.

It’s really hard to speak when you forget how to make words.

Bubble, stubble, rubble…

It’s all your fault, this state I’m in….

“Quit looking at me like that…” says I

There’s something in your eyes that makes me….uneasy.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking…”

Predator of my love, stalker of my heart.

“I hate how much I love you, sometimes” you say

“It causes you physical pain?” I chide

“It is almost unbearable the closer you are to me”

“Do I stink?” in contempt and alarm

“Usually, but not now” says she with a wave of her majestic dish soap bubbled hand.

“You, however dear lady, never stink,  for thine are a cursed stone that must not be touched, but is irresistible to deny” Says I with a flourish of dramatic stage presence…

“I am afraid that if I touch you that I will leave a smudge” you say….touching me and leaving bubbles, as feared….or perhaps, a water logged Cheerio.

“Like unto the man-handled blade of Excalibur, I am blemished!!” heralds my inner King Arthur

My eyes to yours, a crooked grin…

My quaint mate sticks out her tongue at me and instructs me to do something to myself that is physically impossible.

I am chastised…

“Don’t be a big silly, my lover; I am only me….I am not perfect.” Says I

“I will decide what is perfect for me” you say with nose in disdain…

“What do you consider perfect?” I ask

Your shy, crooked grin appears…

“Oh…” thinks I “Mischief is afoot”

Your eyes look at the sky, a finger to your lips “How do I describe “my perfect”? Hmmmm

“You tell me yours and I’ll match ya and bet that you are more perfect than me, deal?”

Challenge given….and accepted.

The blades cross!


“You first” says chivalrous me….

Y:  “Your shadow under the door”

M: “Your hair in my brush”

Y: “Your missing socks”

M: “Your girl razor in my shower”

Y: “Your whiskers in my sink”

M: “Your spoon in the ice cream”

Y: “No, ice cream at all!”

[Stares of accusation and guilt]

“The smell of your pillow” says you.

“Your smell” counters I

“Your children” says you…

“No, Your…children” blames I

[Stares of accusation and guilt]

[laughter and…]

“Your snort when you laugh” says I

“I don’t snort…it’s a nasal exclamation point, sode’ kinda voce’…” protests the snorting woman.

“You’re a terrible liar, too…” I say.


“Did someone just see this lady strike me!?”

[laughter and… a snort giggle]

Y: “I love it when you look at me”

M: “I love it more”

Y: “I love it when you call and ask me if I know how to put out fires”

M: “I really love that more”

Y: “I love it when you look at me…”

M: “You already said that”

“I really meant that part” you say…

“Wanna get naked and wrestle?” asks my inner pig man….

“Perfect” says piggy woman.

God’s Not Dead Yet

Jacob wrestled with God.download

I wrestle with God.

Jacob became Israel

I became….the natural man.

I just found out….

God’s not dead.

I suppose I knew it all along.

If I know God, which I like to think I do…

He’s always been interested in what we’re all doing down here, but not directly involved.

When he gave us free will, he threw up his hands and cried “Let ‘er rip!”

“It’s all in y’alls hands now!”

“Not my fault if you can’t get a God given gift to work!”

So, I guess I shouldn’t blame him anymore…

But, I do…

I’ve got to blame someone, right?

I can’t be blaming myself for things that I can’t control, right?

Wait….it’s MY free will…ain’t it?

It’s MY life….images (3)

If God gave me life, then he kinda relinquished his ownership, right?

So, I guess…it is my fault….kinda.

Maybe I should be more grateful for my ignorance.

I can always escape there.

I can thrive.

Ignorance is my shield against truth and acceptance.

Ignorance is denial cloaked in justification.

You know what? Now that I wrote that last line it made me think….

Ignorance and free will can’t exist at the same time, can they?

Follow me for a sec as I work thru this.

Free will is innate, right?

images (1)….as deep a part of our very soul as anything could be.

Just like right and wrong….knowing the difference…

Well hell, there really is not knowing the difference between right and wrong, per say;

We know what is right…We know what is wrong.

There is no gray area.I mean, think about it…..really think about it.

There is no gray area in right or wrong.

There is no ignorance in free will.

Here’s the math;

So, if x = right or wrong

And y = free will and ignorance is equal to “A”

Then x / y is not equal to A

You can’t argue with a mathematical proof….that’s science.

We know our decisions before we need one.

The “still small voice” that accompanies our free will and common sense is just God’s built-in subconsciouimagess disclaimers removing him from all possible liability.

I’m not gonna make a big deal out of this but, this post has been me, attempting to work thru a decision of my own.

I have decided that I have to have God in my life.

I have tried and tried and tried to forsake my belief in him….

It’s completely true that it is easier living in ignorance, just not that fulfilling or rewarding.

Like I have said before “I wish no one had ever told me about God”

I’m pretty sure I would have found him eventually.

I think I have always known, though.

He might not be the same God as others have in their hearts and minds; their perception, so to say, or the spiritual manifestation thereof;

But he is that he is….

I never quit believing….knowing, in God.images (2)

I was just ignorant to the fact that God’s not dead….

He lives in me.

He lives in us all.

Do the math….

Random Thoughts Before Bed

How much time have I wasted with hate?writing_letter

Maybe hate is the wrong word now that I think about it.

I just did the quick; “look back thru the years in my head, in a minute or two” thingee and can’t really remember ever hating anything…at least anything tangible or that directly affected me, myself or I.

Of course I have the token ex-wife that I wanted to choke slowly to death, chop up, boil in oil, feed to the pigs, push into traffic, slowly choke to death…wait, sorry….ahlmmmmmmmmmmm.

Ping** Ping** Ping**

But, I never hated her, just wanted to kill her.

I have grown older and wiser and am glad that I never resorted to that level of homicidal mania though.

images6It is much more satisfying to watch her live a long and prosperous life and torment the poor woman for years and years….

See….I can learn.

Wait….I hate tomatoes.

….and inconsiderate people.

Hate the action, not the person.

…bull hockey

Just beat the shit out of them…in my mind

No witnesses….

I am learning about the power of now; the present moment.

I am considering writing about the concept of “tomorrow” but I want to troll the internet first and see what other people have expounded upon the subject.

I also bought an actual book to read; “Philosophy 101”

I’m gonna read about “thinking” and stuff….wpid-ashamed.jpeg

I want…need…to quit worrying about “tomorrow”

Why plan for a tomorrow that is not assured?

Just in case?

Life is a gamble; the cards are marked, the dice are loaded and the house ALWAYS wins….

Did someone say that already?

Oh, I hate coming up with awesome quotes that someone has already quoted…

Things to be grateful for:

  • Now
  • Yesterday; what I’ve learned.
  • Family
  • Location, location, location…
  • Chili dogs
  • Health
  • Job or just something to do
  • Opportunity
  • Teachers
  • Copy and paste
  • 50 years of effort starting to pay off….
  • Now

I wish I could be a hermit in the mountains, but I love people.

I wish I could be a super-hero so I could save the world from itself.

100_0145I wish I was filthy rich so I could give it all away.

I wish I could touch a sick person and heal them….

I wish that I hadn’t just run out of Fig Newtons…

Ha! Just found one that fell on the floor!

See…life is good.

Circumstances are bad, or bad things happen.

It’s how you deal with it I guess; attitude.

I had to get older to learn this concept.

I wish I knew then what I know now.

See? What I know NOW…panic

Not what I will know tomorrow….Now.

First things first…
1) Love
2) Forgive
3) Remember
4) Patience
“The hands that molded my past are older now; less clumsy, more skilled”
“The lips that sealed my fate so many times have began to sing”
“The feet that stumbled thru the years have learned to dance”
“The soul that was lost has emerged into the sun”
Don’t sweat the small stuff.
There is only “Now”…this moment.
Tomorrow does not exist…will not…cannot exist.
There will only be that one moment when it comes.
Don’t miss it.
There is only one true law….
“A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.”

Why am I always quoting Jesus?downloadjesus2

Don’t waste time with spite and hate….
Decisions that we make, no matter how trivial, affect us for life.
Failures that you make only last until you’ve corrected them.
Last things…
5) Never Judge
6) Remember
7) Patience
8) Forgive
9) Love…

….forever and ever.

“Hate and anger are a poison that you drink and expect the other person to die”

That’s a Buddha….well, I changed it a little bit….No biggie, same diff….

I wish that I had the world’s largest farm so I could feed everyone that was hungry.

No tomatoes…

I wish that I could have a job where I did nothing but help people, without starving myself.

I wish God would let me be the Avenging angel; just…one…day.

I wish I could find all the missing children.

I wish I could find all the missing children.

I wish I could find all the missing children.

Please Lord…PF_Jedi_24102013185033611

Give me the power so I could find all the missing children.

Give me the power to feed the hungry.

Give me the power to heal.


That’s all I ask…

I’d do it NOW if you let me.

Are you listening, God?

I will pray before I go to bed and ask again, for the millionth time.

One’s gotta get thru….

I wish I was an Oscar Mayer wienerrrrr; then everyone would be in love with meEEee….

Did you smile?


See…Now we’re both rich.


Wow Is Me…


How can this be?
Two big zeroes preceded by a 3…
Im not that interesting
Or witty I agree
Why would anyone want to read anything written by me?
I find that I use grammar like an unwieldy axe
It doesn’t seem to matter though because my blog groupies always come back
They honor me with likes or a comment or two
“You are so talented, you big sexy guy you ”
I get embarrassed by all this lusty praise
I find that fame really sux despite the truth of it all and the questions raised…
” Will he keep being awesome and a stud muffin too? ”
I say “Yes, never fear, my minions of “wow” and “eww”
It’s a helluva thing to be equal to all of my hype!
Thus I promise to keep boring you with prose and type.

Thanks for following my stuff, 

Posted from WordPress by my Android by Treyzguy

Writers Block Prevention

The rest of this month I am going to write Stories based on artwork from Norman Rockwell and Boris Vallejo.

I will select my favorites from these two legendary men and use the pictures as both inspiration and theme.

Here is my first selections…

Norman Rockwells “The girl with a black eye”

Boris Vallejos ” Vampires Kiss”
(I already have ideas for this one!)

I know there is a fancy smancy writing definition or style name for this, but I ain’t learned like the rest of y’all.

I’m just a big dumb stinky truck driver.

Basically… The real reason?

I need a new challenge.

I need some dope man…!!

My own creative writing class, so to say.

I’m sure y’all know exactly what I mean.

Plus, I am trying to do some editing and blending to a bunch of my stories into a book I guess.

Just for the hell of it…

I really don’t care about making money for writing and I’m perfectly happy as I am now, learning the craft from y’all.

Why would you want to make a living doing something you love?

I’m a freaking American, I demand a shitty and unfullfilling job!

It’d turn into a job eventually.

Do I want to be published?

Naaahhh… I think I’d like to, but even if I had the only paper or hard back copy ever, that would be enough.

The Land of WordPressia has helped me grow as a novice writer and shown me satisfaction in my life that I considered was beyond my reach…. And taught this old dawg a new thing ‘er two.

I learn….
I read…
I express…
I write….

I watch in amazement the talent levels and creations that bloom forth from the minds of “regular” people on WordPress and it really gives me hope in our futures.

“Whatever man’s mind is capable of dreaming, his hands can create”
– Treyzguy

Posted from WordPress by my Android by Treyzguy

Stupid is as Stupid goes….


Have you ever____________?

A) Woke up from a dead sleep and wondered why you were peeing in the fridge?

B) Sat on a toilet without looking to see if the seat was down and your butt hits water, and then your hands slip on the rim trying to get up and you sink deeper this time, wedging the blue pill in your crack?

C) Go to put your glasses on and jam an earpiece into your retina? (Man that sux)

D) Start to say something and bite the edge of your tongue and inner cheek, causing your eyes to blink hard and make that jaw popping “Fuck that hurt!” face?

E) Just barely catch the edge of the top step with your heel, and dropping down to the next step with a jolt that fuses your lower spine and chips your teeth?

F) Reached for a dropped fork on the floor and cracked your skull on the table?

G) Woke from a dead sleep and go to the potty and start to pee, then realize that you never pulled your pants down or cracked open the boxers?

H) Sat on a cracked chair and pinched the Holy shit outta the back of your thigh or leaned on a cracked bar or table and pinch the Holy shit outta the soft part of your forearm? (Man, that hurts just thinking about it)

I) Walked off the roof of a house? Me neither….

J) Fell down stairs and acted like nothing happened despite the internal bleeding?

K) Kissed somebody and bump teeth? (creepy)

L) Sounded like your parents, then got drunk?

M) Ran fast thru the woods at night when you heard a twig snap?

N) Seen the boogeyman?
Me neither…..
Just wondering….

O) Deleted a paper, essay or story that you’ve been working on for days by accident, and you sit there and scream at the Screen?
Me neither…..

I better save this now….

Posted from WordPress by my Android by Treyzguy

Dang….Lame Post #1



I didn’t win the lottery….


I was aghast at not winning.

I had bought 3 tickets in Massachusetts, 3 tickets in Tennessee and 3 in Ohio.

I thought I had the demographical areas covered because everyone knows that only Yankee’s, shunned Amish and Hillbillies win the lottery.

I felt a little bad about buying the tickets since becoming friends with Author Catherine Townsend-Lyon, a great crusading blogger and recovering gambling addict.

 It’s $636 million bucks Cat! And I was SURE I WAS GONNA WIN!

Maybe that’s how it starts….Great, just what I need…..another habit.

I don’t think I will succumb to the wiles of gambling though. I am the type of person who will struggle to buy a $3 lottery ticket but spend $400 on an Xbox.

I have a better chance of winning on the Xbox…..I have cheat codes.

I was gonna do a lot of good with my share of the money.

I was gonna build the best chain of homeless shelters in the country.

You could buy your very own AUTHENTIC homeless person for your town.

Not only would the poor wretch add a little color to the community, but would give the police department something to do on the weekends.

It would have been a fiscally advantageous investment as well.

The presence of the hobo would have dropped property values causing cheaper housing cost thus creating an opportunity to drive the upper class from the area and for middle to low income families to own their own home.

Next….I was gonna bribe local leaders in some of my favorite towns and influence them to create zoning laws forbidding Starbucks® to build within the town limits.

Starbucks® is a branch of the Treasury Department and a shadowy division controlled by the IRS.

I have documents proving this….

So what if I wrote them, it doesn’t mean it’s not true.

Next….I was gonna buy out the residents of the entire NYC metropolis, move them to North Dakota under the pretense of becoming their very own country, then build a big wall around the entire state, slam the gates behind them, swallow the only key then laugh my ass off and throw rocks at them from the top of the wall…..


Next….I was gonna buy me a Slinky® and waste all the time I wanted watching it go down the stairs of my quaint little mansion.

Everyone loves a Slinky®

Next….I was gonna buy out Wal-Mart and change their hiring standards.

All employees must have a PHD for their area of the store and a family tree that actually has branches in it.

Next….I was gonna buy me some socks….I need some bad.

I had a whole list of things I wanted to do with that money and I told God about it.

He was all for it but said he couldn’t influence the outcome of the results. He said he had no idea of how it worked.

ImageThe last time he had anything to do with a lottery he said, was in a place called Sodom. I told him that I remembered stories of Sodom and what had happened there and he said that “Yes” that he had lost his temper when one of his numbers didn’t match.

“Cheating bastards” I said. God agreed.

I’m going to sit here and mope about my close call with the lottery winnings.

I only missed my ship coming in by 5 numbers and a Megaplier.

Oh well……Maybe next time.Image

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