Obligatory Football Posting

So…As some of you might know, playing digital football has become an addiction of mine. As much as I yell at my TV and feel like the worst excuse for a human being who wants to go outside and pour lighter fluid all over his controller and watch it burn in the driveway when I’m losing a game, I keep playing.

I can’t stop, well I can…I think, but I don’t want to. And it’s not an addiction as if I don’t take care of my life or whatever; but when I’m winning, damn I feel good. And if the score is close my heart beats so fast, I feel like I just got done running, which I don’t think I’ve done in the past 20 to 25 years.

So as of March 24th 2017 at 5 o’clock p.m. Central Standard Time I have played 318 online games against other people, I’ve won 180 of those which means that 138 of them resulted in a loss. Which means I won 56.6% of the games that I played against random people.

For the longest time I did not have a rating and I did not understand how someone with a record of 120-140 could be ranked when someone else with a record of 140-120 could not even be ranked. I still don’t understand it.

As you might know, or can make an educated guess at, I play as the Seattle Seahawks and I have for the last 318 games. It’s my team, I don’t care how bad they might be; hell…Matt Hasselbeck could still be our QB and guess what, it won’t change. You could say this player is better than that player, but I don’t really care; is he wearing a Seahawks jersey?

See now…if Marshawn Lynch comes back to the NFL as a Oakland Raider that is…I don’t know man.

Anyhow, I got done playing a game one night and it finally gave me a ranking, it’s got slightly better in the past two days. According to the game I’m ranked 7,053 out of 100,000 players. That feels really good, probably better than it should; not many people are going to be like, “Oh look at that kid.” They are just going to see my gamer tag next to numbers that most likely won’t mean much to them.

And, honestly I don’t feel like I’m…deserving of that many wins when you take into account that if you quit the game, you lose; if they quit the game you win. I have a few wins that are just wins because the other person didn’t even snap the ball and he was forced to forfeit due to excessive grieving, which means they got 3 penalties in a row.

I also have a few loses because my modem decided to take a shit, and if I left the game, which is what happens when you lose internet connection, then you lose.

Then you got to account for the fact that the majority of players do dumb shit that a coach would never do unless he was trying to lose his job. They go for it on 4th&25, they fake a field goal on the 4th down when they are 70 yards away from the goal post. That being said some of those games don’t even feel like a competition.

And then you get those players who do dumb shit, but for some fucking reason get away with it every time. Sometimes I keep playing them and say, “They’ll fuck up sooner or later.” But when they don’t and I’m losing 21 to 0 in the second half, that is when I quit.

But I guess I’m way better than I thought, I’m in the top 7.1% of the top 100,000 players.

So…don’t ask me why the picture says my rank is 0-0; I’ll just make an educated guess and say that the system is slow at updating.

Should I Be Mad?

This story may take turns, chances are – like most of my posts – they have improper grammar due to the fact that I’m really bad at editing myself. I’m writing this without any preparation – yet again like the mass majority of my posts. If I’m talking about one thing but then the drunken train conductor derails the train into another topic, don’t be surprised.

As you might know I was born with a physical disability that is rare and hereditary in nature. My disability is known as, or called, Hereditary Spastic Paraplegia or otherwise referred to as HSP.

My mom gave the disability to me, her mom gave it to her, I gave it to my son. My uncle, her brother, also had it. I don’t know much about how my uncle was effected, but what little I did see him he was better than I was but worse of then my mom; he was able to walk like I could when I was around the age of 23, couldn’t walk without support but seemed to have the energy to do so. My mom used to play basketball in high school, she did not show any signs of our disability until she was 18 years old.

Me on the other hand showed it as soon as I started walking, maybe even before then. I took my first step at the age of 11 months, but I fell down right away and gave up. It was kind of like I said, “Fuck that shit, I’m not doing that again.” But I did, I started walking on a regular basis sometime around the age of 3.

My disability has the nature of getting worse over time, that being said I used to be able to walk and now I can’t walk without assistance. Those of us born with the disability are theorized to plateau at some unknown point in life. I can still drive a car with the use of my feet. Even when I could walk you could look at me and say, “That kid walks funny.” It was not easy to hide the fact that I was physically disabled, in fact it was almost impossible unless I sat in a chair my entire life.

If you did not catch on by now, everyone who has my disability is effected differently, while the University of Michigan is doing studies and found the particular gene in the DNA strain; everyone is effected differently and it is almost impossible to distinguish how person A is effected differently than person B without physically having communication with said people.

My son is currently 13 years old, his mom broke up with me when he was around the age of 3. After breaking up with me she got married to someone in the military and from that my son spent the last 9 years moving from Washington State, up to Alaska, down to Texas, over to Florida, and when he was 12 they moved back to Washington State due to his step-father getting a job offer in Seattle.

Last time I saw my kid was July of 2016 when my aunt took me with her to Washington State as a way of her visiting her sister; my mom. Both of her sisters do not have our disability.

From what I can tell, my son, who has my disability according to the University of Michigan, does not show signs of our disability. He does, but you would not know it at first glance. You’d have to wait until he was tired of walking, or just tired in general. I remember being at Mt. Rainier watching my kid walk towards the bathroom, I was not really able to see anything other than a very minor angular change of his foot when he steps forward with said leg.

So this is where the story breaks off into another direction.

A few weeks ago I was on Facebook and saw one my sisters posts, in said post she used the word retarded as a way of explaining her and her friend hanging out and being stupid. From there came comments that were trying to correct her on using such word in said fashion. I go onto leave a comment that said something along the lines of, I can’t find the post anymore…she deleted it. I said something to the effect of…

I think of it as someone calling me a cripple.

Over the years I’ve learned how to poke fun at myself.

Unless it’s me using the word against myself, or a close friend using the word towards me in a humorous fashion; it’s offensive. I would not call you a cripple due to the fact that you might be offended by that, and even then…that is not the correct way to describe an individual with a physical disability.

Later that night I was in the kitchen heating a pizza in the oven when my sister called and said, “Can you please delete that last comment that you made.” With a slightly confused look on my face that quickly turned into anger  I asked, “Why?”

“Because I don’t want anyone to know that I’m disabled.”

We got into a short fight afterwards and shorty after she said, “It’s not you decision to…” I hung up on her. Shortly after that I sent her a text message that said, “Don’t be afraid or who you are.” Which went straight into her asking, “Why did you hang up on me?” To which I said, “Because I was offended…”

My sister…we didn’t know that she had HSP until a blood test to try to find a cure was conducted, which is where the University of Michigan comes into play. My sister grew up showing no signs of said disability. She ran track, she was on the diving team, she did gymnastics in high school; she was a very active person. No one knew that she had it until we got word from the University of Michigan that told us otherwise. She didn’t show signs until she was….29, 30, 31; I don’t know.

It has been said that those who “develop” a disability much later in life have a much harder time coping with their new found lack of movement.

“I was offended…you’re more or less telling me in a round about way that you are ashamed that you are like your brother and that you just want to act like the whole thing does not exist.”

“No, it’s not like that at all; you just don’t have the right to tell my friends things about me that they don’t know.”

While I can agree with that, that does not mean that I was not offended. After thinking about it for the past few days I came to the conclusion that I’m jealous oh her.

Unlike her I was never able to hide the fact that I had a physical disability. I had a…difficult time as a kid. Other kids don’t fucking know, and they use your misfortune as a way to gain popularity among other kids who think the same thing. It took me a long time to figure out who I was, it took me a move to another state to understand that kids just make fun of you based on what they don’t know.

It took me awhile to understand that if you don’t give them the reaction that they are looking for (which is their fucked up way of gaining popularity) and you address, and explain, the elephant in the room people tend to be more inviting.

It took me a long time to understand this, and I’m currently in the state of mind where: Well fuck it, I am who I am; if you don’t like it, I’m not going to try to be someone I’m not.

Part of  me being targeted by bullies in school was because I gave them the reaction that they were looking for. I wanted to be popular, but at that time in my life I kept trying to be someone that I was not just because I thought people might like me if I was different. That has also taught me something about girls!

If you’re a dork and you like the color pink, or whatever it is; own that shit, be proud of it. Girls love confidence, if you like to  eat eggs with ketchup, fucking own that shit; don’t try to turn into someone you think she wants you to be, fucking be yourself and be proud of it! Don’t be an asshole, every relationship has it’s struggles which require compromise.

I’m just saying…if you like rap music, expand your musical tastes because she is a fan of heavy metal, don’t stop liking it because she doesn’t like it. However if she, I don’t know…stops having sex with you because you like rap; you might want to reevaluate the person that she is.

I have to understand that my sister is on a different life path, her perspective is not the same as mine. She grew up with me, in the same house, going to the same school; she saw what I went though. Or did she? She saw it, but I don’t think she fully understood it.

From my perspective hearing her tell me that was the same as, “I saw what you went though as a kid, and I don’t want that to happen to me, so I just going to Donald Trump this bitch and act like it doesn’t exist.”

Which makes me wonder, “If we were not related would she have been one of those who made fun of me in school?”

So, I understand that her perspective is different than mine, but I’m jealous that she got to do something that I was never able to do.

There are a lot of people that can do things that I can’t, I’m not jealous of them; they did not grow up with me, they do not have the same disability that I do, and they were not able to hide that disability for about a third of their life.

She has a hard time coming, and the longer she is afraid to tell people that she is disabled the harder it is going to be on her.

I understand not letting people know that you are disabled. There have been people I talked to online who have no idea that I’m disabled, I understand not letting people know. But the moment where you’re afraid to let yourself know is where my anger comes from.

Am I right for being mad at my sister for this particular issue?

How do I address it if she wants my advice? We are clearly looking at the same picture through two different pieces of glass. I can’t just look at her and say, “Shit happens, get used to it,” she wont see that the same way I do.

That’s like a mime trying to show you how to be a public speaker with the same audience.

Can You Be too Nice

I’ve been told many things by my father, he continues to tell me stuff all the time. As much as he says shit that makes me think, “Is my dad an asshole?” He also has many nuggets of wisdom he has dropped on me throughout the years, one of the things that had the most impact on me was, “You can lead a horse to water but you can’t force it to drink,” that has thought me that you can only do so much and if someone is not going to listen to you it’s going to be a waste of your time to try to get them to listen to something they don’t want to listen to.

Sometimes that person might even know that they should listen to you, but their emotions have tricked them to do the opposite. But this is not want this story is about, however I did mention a few times here and here if you care to read.

One of the things my dad had always told me was: “You can’t be mad at someone for what they don’t know.” But can you?

So I’m hanging out at home and Shannon gave me three things to do while she is at work: Do the dishes, fold the clothes, take out the trash, and “You can do laundry if you want to because it’s all in the bathroom.”

The first thing I do is listen to podcast while doing about a hour and a half worth of dishes. When I was done I used some of those clean dishes to have hot dogs and drink a Monster while watching part 8 of a video game walkthough on YouTube.

I usually don’t watch someone else play a video game, but it this case…I will never play Resident Evil 7, it dose not seem as scary as I thought it might. But part of my disability is hyperactive nerves and when I’m watching a horror movie I’ll find myself looking at the ground until that demon jumps out of the wall. That being said horror is my favorite kind of movie even if I jump two feet every time I see something scary pop out of nowhere, even if I see it coming form two miles away.

If I play video games like that I’m known to turn into the guy who stands in one spot and never ever beats the game because he doesn’t want to go out of that door, and I’m tired of knocking shit over and accidentally throwing my controller against the wall due to me jumping two feet over nothing.

Afterwards I was rolling around my house looking for a sweatshirt so that I could take the first of two trash bags outside. A few posts ago I mentioned that my house was up to A.D.A. regulations. That being said…every house in our neighborhood that looks just like mine has a small patio leading into the front door and in order to get onto that patio you need to step up two concrete steps. Unlike the other houses, my house is on a hill, oh wow, look at that; Nebraska actually has changes in elevation!

The owner of the house has made a ramp that allows me easy access from the driveway to the front door or vise-versa. That being so, I tied the trash bag, put the trash on my lap, opened the door, went outside, turned my chair to the side so I could reach the door to close said door, and closed it just to start using gravity to roll me down the ramp that turns the other way when you’re at the half-way point.

Just as I’m doing this I see two kids outside walking past my house via the sidewalk. I look up to see one of these two kids putting a piece of pizza in the other hand just to take the trash bag from me as he walks over to the outside trashcan to throw it away.

As he grabbed it I was slightly caught off guard as I say, “Oh…thank you very much,” as he replied with, “You’re very welcome.”

So I turned around and came back in the house to grab the second trash bag, but instead of that I found myself thinking, “That’s a nice kid.” A few other thoughts are drifting around in my head such as, “When I was that young kids were not that nice.” As thoughts are drifting though my head I think, “Did he just help me because he assumed that I can’t do it?”

And that got me to thinking  about every time I go somewhere with my fiance and she gets back into the car while I’m putting my wheelchair in my trunk; watching people look at her as if they’re thinking, “Wow, she’s an asshole!”

As far as that goes, I have a system…I rely on that system, if anything fucks up that system…

If you see me standing at the back of my car disassembling my wheelchair to lift it into my trunk and you say, “Do you need any help,” I’ll always say, “No,” I might even finish by saying, “Thank you though.”

When putting away, or even taking out, my wheelchair I have a system of taking it out/putting it back and what parts need to be removed first, and how to balance myself against my bumper while I do it. I also know how to work my wheelchair, you don’t. If another body invades my space, it fucks up my whole world and makes me uncomfortable. That does not mean I hate you, I’m glad you want to help, I understand that it is not your intention to upset me.

I just don’t like turning around, finding a new way to balance myself, and making you feel like you’re doing to whole thing by yourself because I can’t be in your way. I understand that you might attempt to know, but you really don’t; every time you move, I have to move in a way that I’m not used to it that situation. You might be able to move around other person, but I can’t, well I can…but if I try to I’ll most likely fall and try to grab onto your body for support…

And grabbing onto someone you don’t know, while I have an excuse to do so in said situation; it’s still weird. And you don’t know my disability, if I grab you you’ll grab me back, which is awesome; but they way that you assume is correct to do so just makes it harder for me to walk.

It’s best that I just stay out of your way, and then I need to give you instruction on how to assemble/dissemble my wheelchair as well as where to put the pieces because it’s the best fit in my trunk.

I think all of this when I look at you and say, “No, thank you though.”

And then I’m looked at like I’m weird for not wanting help. And Shannon knows this, I explained this to her. When we get done shopping she’ll just get in the passenger seat and wait for me. Other people must assume she is an asshole. She knows that if I needed help I would ask, but I don’t; so she sits there and looks like an asshole.

I do things by myself. Oh look at that, someone in a wheelchair who tries his hardest to be as independent as possible! Shannon isn’t always going to be there, neither will some random ass person; I got to learn how to do shit on my own.

Once again, I know you are tying to be nice, but it’s often not needed.

So…that all runs into, “Do they just do it because they don’t know any better? Are they assuming that someone in a wheelchair can’t do anything”

Not in a Wheelchair

I had a dream the other night. While I can not remember the specifics of said dream. I do remember that my fiance was in it. Tonight she was laying in bed with me asking…

Earlier that day I woke up and looked at my phone to see a text message from Shannon and I can’t really remember what was said, nor do I care to find my phone and go backwards in my text log to find out. But I do remember telling her that I had a dream with her in it, but it wasn’t the bed dream and I shortly explained.

We were laying in bed when she said, “So you had a dream about me that I was mad at you because you didn’t go on a hike with me when we were on vacation.” This lead to me explaining to her what little of the dream I remembered as she asked, “Were you disabled in this dream?” And this was after she said, “Well that just makes me look like an asshole.”

So, as far as that question goes; for those of you who do not know, yes, I am physically disabled and spend the majority of my day in a manual wheelchair. However I’m not disabled in my dreams. I never watch myself walk, I don’t sit there and watch myself walk. Mainly because I can’t walk as well as I used to, but also because it’s hard for anyone to watch themselves walk. So that’s where I think I get that from.

I know that I’m disabled in my dreams, I might even be in my wheelchair, but if I had to run from zombies I could get out of my wheelchair and run like I was trying to get the gold metal in the Olympics.

I remember having dreams where I said something like, “You can’t legally do that, I’m disabled and you can’t discriminate against me in the workplace; and by you taking those actions, you’re not telling me otherwise.” In that same dream I’d end up running the football better than Marshawn Lynch.

She asked me and it made me wonder, “How many people in wheelchairs view themselves the same way in their dreams?”

Video Games with Donald Trump

One night I was playing Madden 17, again. And afterwards I was fucking pissed and wanted to thrown my controller against the wall and blow up my house. Because once again I was playing against some fucking lucky asshole who fucking won the game 25 to 24 by doing stupid shit, that a coach would never do, but fucking this kid was lucky as fuck.

Once again I was playing an idiot at checkers as he kept picking up his chips and fucking slamming the back onto the table in random ass locations while I sat there and yelled at my TV, “How the fuck do you get away with that shit? I’m playing all the right plays based on the fact that you don’t seem to know your ass from a hole in the ground and you just fucking get away with that shit like its the easiest thing you have ever done.”

Then later that night I was laying in bed staring at my phone, this was around the time our fucking dumbass of a fucktard president starting his happy ass executive order bullshit, which…I don’t think any of them have done any good.

It was when he signed his name on shit he didn’t fucking read in the first place, and put the construction of the Dakota Pipeline back into play. That night I was laying in bed on Facebook, I just got done reading “fake news” about how fucking dumb our president is, and I posted on Facebook:

“Donald Trump is like that fucking dude you play Madden 17 with, the kid who decides that going for it on 4th&24 is the smartest idea ever. You know what, you might complete it, but it’s such a risk that you’re most likely going to end up turning it over to me due to an incomplete pass, a sack, an interception, or even a complete pass that doesn’t make it 24 yards. Good job dude, it might work, but if it doesn’t you just contaminated land with oil just because you have fucking ties to a oil company. And no one fucking asked you to be there anyways.”

A few nights ago I was playing Grand Theft Auto Online with one of my friends from Washington State. When we play Grand Theft Auto Online we play with the two of us, no one else. Why? Because everyone else who plays doesn’t seem to do anything besides buy guns just to run around with no rhyme or reason but to kill each other for no fucking reason.

When we play Grand Theft Auto Online we actually like to play co-op missions, and if we go to Freemode to buy food, clothes, weapon, or whatever else; we don’t wan’t to feel like we are being hunted by someone with nothing better to do.

Grand Theft Auto Online is updated all the time, the game is still being played by a lot of people and they make a shit ton of money based on micro-transactions. I never understood that, why do you want to spend real money on fake money?

The new updates seem to be focused on public games, I remember telling Jay, “Grand Theft Auto is not the same as it used to be man, it pisses me off.” But that didn’t seem to have any soft of impact on him until he said…

“Why can’t you access your office in a close friend session?”

Not knowing that much about it I responded by saying, “All these new updates are focused on public games and it seems like you can no longer enjoy the game unless you put yourself in a digital city of serial killers.”

The next day I was in the kitchen doing dishes, we do not have a dishwasher, but we do have a house that is up to A.D.A. regulations. That being said I can sit in my wheelchair for hours and do the dishes. Part of me likes doing the dishes, sometimes I’ll be doing the dishes for 4 hours, and I’m okay with that; gives me a good opportunity to listen to podcasts.

Most of the podcasts I listen to are based in Seattle and are part of ‘99.9 FM KISW the rock of Seattle’. I do listen to others that are atheist based such as ‘Cognitive Dissonance.’ Outside of that I enjoy Joe Rogan’s Podcast from time to time.

I remember a previous episode was talking about the movie Matrix, and from there the topic moved to the fact that the world is 4.5 billion years old even though 40% of Americans think the Earth is 6,000 years old. From that came the idea that 100 years of technology is a very small slice of time when it comes to the history of humans, as we scientifically know it.

That then led into the possibility of a reality that is all digital but is so real that unless your name is Morpheus you would not know otherwise.

So…I came upon a theory that scares me. For the sake of argument let’s assume that the world becomes a giant virtual reality system that feels and looks so real that if you want to go on vacation in Amsterdam and have unprotected sex with a dozen people all you would have to do is sit on your couch in the middle of Oregon.

Now what if you were able to disconnect from the system and go on about your life as you do, but when you connect to it you get put into a would with everyone else that is also connected? Do you think people would do whatever the fuck they want because there was no consequence to their actions?

Like…that got me thinking about those people who commit murder. Like who the fuck does that? Why the fuck would you do that?

But when you’re playing a video game everyone becomes a serial killer. Why? Are people really that much of an asshole?

Like if a Matrix type of video game reality ever exists would you have to wear tactical gear and take a AK-47 and a Desert Eagle with you to the gas station just because someone might try to kill you?

Like people can’t be that fucked up!

What separates real life from a video game? What if there was no separation between the two?

Do people understand that an asshole is an asshole regardless of the platform.

And this is what I was thinking when that guy picked up his checker chip, laughed at me, and then slammed it back to on the table in a random ass location; that just happened to be the right location based on mere luck.

Like…I fear that if that technology ever comes to be the digital world would be filled with people who take actions that don’t seem to make sense to anyone besides them, and will they feel bad because 40 people died in the process of them getting 50,000 dollars?

That’s why we need a president. But…he’s fucking dumb too. I think this is the first time that America has found itself as a CEO who hires a employee that can’t do his job even though he is a very good liar and just like a shady used car salesman he emotionally sold a 250,000 mile vehicle to people that thought they were buying a reliable mode of transportation.

I Have A Problem

Okay, so… did you know that much as cell phone companies claim to have 3G connection country wide, it’s not true! I would imagine that most people don’t drive 1,600 miles from the Pacific Northwest to the Midwest. It’s not something I do all the time, but I got to image that I did it more than most. I drove or rode back or forth from Tacoma, Washington to Lincoln, Nebraska more than a few times.

And here in a few months I will be, once again, driving from Lincoln, Nebraska to Portland, Oregon. Not as long of a drive, but still; only shaves off about 2 or 3 hours, depending on you drive and how often you stop.

So, I got fuck tons of music. Then…I got a new car. Call me weird if you want but considering my music collection and the fact that I have a 160GB iPod. The first thing I notice in a vehicle, other than the fact of rather my wheelchair can fit in the trunk or not, is the radio and rather I can plug my iPod into my cars radio via a USB port. And my car’s stereo has other function such as Bluetooth, Stitcher, Pandora, so on and so forth.

But when you’re in the middle of fucking Wyoming or Montana, good luck listening to anything that uses the internet. And yes, I know, this is not 1995 where the capability of that didn’t even exist.

I can plug my iPod into my car, and it shows me the artist, album, song title, and album artwork; based on the information I plug into iTunes. Which is fucking awesome, the only problem is that system has a limit of 10,000 songs! So that is 8,000 songs that don’t go onto my iPod.

So this is where my problem is…

I made playlists, a few of them, all with more then 200 songs. I did this so I could put a song that I like on a playlist that can go into my car, without exceeding the song limit. So if all 6 or 7 playlists consist of 2,000 songs; that gives me another 8,000. From there I just pick a few of my favorite full length albums, which is more than a few, and dump them on my iPod until I’m close to that limit.

Sounds awesome right?

So I made a playlist of rap or R&B, a few song in are the following songs; from the same album: Akon – Tired of Runnin’ and Akon – Smack That. So, iTunes has a sound check feature, which is supposed to level out all the songs to the same volume…but guess what? That shit does not work like they claim.

When you play the album all of the songs are fairly equal in volume and sound check doesn’t really seem to have an effect as long as you’re playing an album in its entirety. However, when you have a playlist consisting of 1,500 songs, the volume equalization , that is supposed to make your life easier just makes it harder.

If I go to the album and play ‘Tired of Runnin’ before or after ‘Smack That’ both songs are give or take the same volume, to the point that if you’re driving your car you don’t have to worry about reaching for the volume control.

But if I go into the playlist and play both of those songs (same album mind you) both songs are drastically different. It bothers the fuck out of me.Then you also got 700 other songs on that playlist that might be different volumes.

Honestly the only solution I have is to remove all of my songs from iTunes and turn off sound check, adding one album at a time spending the next year making sure album 1A is equal to 2A, 3A, 4A then matching A to B. Just hoping that album 3J is equal to 9Z.

So I guess that’s what I’m going to be doing.

I highly doubt that anyone will have an easier solution, to my method – that might not even work – but I’m taking a shot, if you’re reading this and you’re like, “Hey, do this,” let me know.

You’re Not Thinking

You ever lay in bed looking at your phone and you’re touching your phones screen with your thumb moving it up, as you are scrolling though your news feed you see a picture that either says, “Like this if you would like to party here,” or a picture of a large and/or unique house that says, “Like this if you would like to live here.” Well I’m going to give you a perspective that most of you honestly don’t think about.

You liking one of these pictures does not mean that you hate me, I don’t think that my friends who share this type of photo hate me. I know the majority of my Facebook friends. I’m not one of those types that has 900 friends on Facebook, but only knows 10% of them.

The large majority of my Facebook friends live in Washington State, and at one point in my life I was at a party with them, they were in my car, I lived with them, worked with them; you know those type of people who you actually know.

Then you got my extended family, and fuck…there’s a lot of them. The majority of them are either removed from my news feed and/or restricted unless I publicly post/share something. I don’t want them to see what type of shit I post. I’m known to do stupid shit, stuff that my friends might think is funny…but I don’t need them to know that their cousin, brother, grandson, or nephew can be that dumb.

And the mass majority of my extended family live in Nebraska where you must be a republican who believes in God, some who are more extreme than others. And let’s be honest; I’m an Atheist who believes that people are people and deserve the same rights as every other human being…oh, there is also the idea that I think drugs should be legal, some harder to get then others, but still legal and treated as a medical issue, not a criminal issue that rarely solves the problem.

Mainly they are blocked from my news feed because I don’t know when to shut up. I don’t want to fight with 3 of them who think that Donald Trump is the second coming of Jesus or some shit.

Anyhow…I’ll admit, these houses are cool as hell; I’d love to live there. That location is awesome too, having a party there would be awesome. But guess what? I can’t do either of those things.

You don’t think about a wheelchair, and I don’t blame you; that’s like me thinking about how difficult it is to run in two feet of water, it’s not something I do.

And yes, I know, I’m aware that these type of pictures are fantasies and the likelihood of either happening is very small. I would like to do that type of shit too, but for me that would be more work then it’s worth just to be like, “Hey, look where I live.”

I understand this is not your intention, but when I see my friends share one of these type of pictures I cant help but think…

“Okay, so you’re telling me that if you ever get the opportunity to do something cool you’re not going to take me. Why…because I’m too much of a hassle?  You must not care about me as much as you say you do, because to me you just seem like someone that only cares about yourself and how much fun you’re having, you know…I’d like to do it too, but you might not have as much fun because you have to worry about rather I can get from point A to point B, and when I need to move I might need your help to do so.”

Yes, I know I’m taking it too far right? None of these picture indicate to me that any part of these picturesque situations are handicapped accessible. So yea, I know that you probably won’t ever be in the situation, I get that.

Just think about how those of us in wheelchairs might see it. The situation might be different, but you’re more or less telling us in a-round-about way that if you get the opportunity to do something cool,  I’m going to be the last person you think of.

You just want to have fun right?