Door to door vacuum salesman for Jebus

I am 21 years old in this picture. I was always near risking a dishonorable release when I got around the blond, Tanya, in the middle. I'm still good friends with this family. This was taken in my last flat, located in Bradford.

(The "Donny Gang" Doncaster, England. I'm second from the left, @ 20 yrs. Nationalities are as follows, L to R: German, U.S., U.S., U.S., Portugese, Finnish, Canadian, and the good looking bloke in the front, "Ades" is a Limey. I worked as partners with the Finn and the Portugese guys, but mostly had Brit partners.)

There was a time in my life, a very different time, where I lived in another country. I traveled around Northeast England "selling" door to door. It was life changing. It was spirit lifting and crushing. It was awesome and I'll never experience anything like it again. This is probably good because spending years of my life going door to door ten hours a day, six days a week with a seventh day of five hours, trying to get people to use "Jebus brand Hoovers" was, needles to say, extremely hard and not an old man's game. I have been thinking about my level of faith then as compared to now lately.

Why do I shroud this part of my life in mystery? For my own amusement, really. It's fun to think that I was selling Hoovers for Jesus, or as Homer J. Simpson would say, "Jebus". I still can't wrap my head around it--the experience. I feel like I was disembodied for a time and an alternate "me" took up this life in th UK and had all these adventures. Going back to faith, I think my faith is more realistic now as compared to then. Back then I was looking for that 12-year-old girl with the spinning head and pea soup projectile vomit to take on. I wanted to literally confront the devil and somehow beat him. Now, I just want to live a good life and hope that I am not way off the mark when I meet my fate.

Moving on to other things, there are certain aspects of life that I will never have figured out. The main thing would be women. Having said that, I don't know that I care to figure women out. I think that's why I am attracted to them. I like mysteries. However, they have to be good mysteries in order for me to buy the book or check them out of the library.

There's this face that I see in my dreams. I use this face in ways that are not good for me, I think. What I do is superimpose this face onto women. I try to turn women into this woman in my dreams. This isn't the "woman of my dreams". Rather, this is a woman that talks to me if she has known me my whole existence. She never wavers in her appearance. My heart aches for the joy I get to feel when she sits down and listens to me. I swear it is the Lady Madonna. I'm not Catholic, so what gives? It seems impossible for me to materialize her into a sketch. I see elements of her in many women, but never enough for there to be a match. It doesn't make me dissatisfied with women; rather, I latch onto that one thing in common and proceed to fabricate the rest. It isn't fair. I will stop. I know what I just said is pretty weird, but I needed to tell you all about it.

Walks in the rain are cliché, but are nice nonetheless.

That's it. Happy Labor Day! Imma gonna catcha me a fish!!!!