My good friend Rocket Simoncini has started his own blog. Though in its infancy, the posts are teeming with potential and I have legitimately loled at each one. An excerpt from one that I particularly liked:
“My ex-girlfriends panties. Yep, I found em. Laced black thong, not the granny panty variety. Put them on my head one last time, and sent them off for good. I used to wear them on my head as a fashion statement. Now I did it as a 21 gun salute, final send off. ONWARD AND UPWARD.”Rocket – The Room Clean-Up
I mention this because Simon wrote a guest blog for Splittingtens that is posted below (he wrote this before he realized his full potential and started his own blog).
His post features a letter I wrote him six years ago. I used to do these little ‘guess the X‘, like race time, or number of coins in a bag, and whoever was closest would receive a hand written letter from me.
I stopped doing that because I sort of stopped posting on social media entirely (there may be a future post on that). Simoncini uncovering this letter though may bring me back.
I miss the hand written letter. There are probably 10 letters out there that I wrote just like this one, and it feels like they mean something. I don’t remember who I wrote them all to, but I hope that if anyone finds them, they smile. Perhaps there are more to come.
My First Blog Post
First I was a fan of Bansheeman7, and now I’m a fan of Splitting Tens. Just a couple guys giving their take on anything and everything without a care in the world what people think. I’ve always wanted to get into blogging and so here it goes—just another guys life and opinion you probably couldn’t give less of a shit about. This first post was going to be about dating apps and how I have no idea what I’m doing on them—but I’m going to have to save that for blog post #2. The reason?
I’m cleaning my room for the first time ever and I came upon all the letters I’ve saved throughout the years. I’ve literally never thrown anything out. Letters from lovers, family, friends, really anyone who took the time to write to me. I’d like to share this following letter that I got from a friend, which I hope you all will enjoy.
I promise letters, but not punctually. Sorry for the delay.
The first thing I want to say is that to this day, it STILL baffles me how you can be a pretty good athlete but be so slow at running 800 meters. Don’t take offense to that, running is for losers and if you’re not breaking 4:00 in the mile, then you’re just wasting time. I honestly don’t know why I do it.
Anyway, I try to write these based on my relationship with the recipient. Given that, I initially thought I should give you life advice, since you’re basically me, just four years younger, and tell you all the mistakes I’ve made, and how to avoid them. For example, [INSERT EXAMPLE THAT I HAD TO DELETE], and I wish someone would’ve told me how to avoid that.
But after more thought, I don’t think that’s valid. Everyone has to make their own mistakes and learn from them. Plus, I don’t think I have anything of value to share anyway. In fact, based on our convo on New Year’s Eve, it seems like you have your act together more than I ever have. Do you have any advice for me???
You told me not to send you the $10. Maybe that’s one area I can give you advice. Andy, I’m down seven thousand dollars gambling in 2017. Yes, SEVEN. THOUSAND. DOLLARS. Each time I lose $1,000 or more, I wake up the next morning feeling like my life is spiraling out of control. My stomach turns at the thought of losing again. But then as time goes on, I realize it’s not that big of a deal. Nothing we do in our 20s matters. It’s all hoopla, except for heroin and having a child. Those are real.
So take the $10 I gave you and throw it on black at the roulette table. It’s better you gamble it than me. Who knows, maybe you’ll turn it into something. Like my old man always tells me, “I always thought I’d get hot one of those times and take the casino for 100 large.” His gambling days are over though, so it’s up to us to carry on and fulfill his destiny.
I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Until then, take care.”
This letter was written by our very own Samuel Stortz. This note will be framed shortly. Thank you for being my friend. Excited to contribute to Splitting Tens.