...and get ourselves into situations in which only we wind up being uncomfortable. Now, you might think I'm talking about something that I did; oh no, friends, not this time. Nope nope nope. No sirree.
I don't think so, anyway.
...maybe?
meh.
2.27.2009
Facebook is Weird
Like, really weird. Just take a step outside of yourself, and take a good long look at facebook, along with it's many features and applications.
You can send your mom a bitchslap (b!*$% slap).
There is a little cartoon with it.
Facebook has little cartoons you can bitchslap (b!*$% slap) your mom with.
That, kids, is weird.
-"Before you can b!*$% slap Maria, you need to follow the steps below to set up SuperPoke! Be sure to click the "Allow" button on the following page to give us permission to send your SuperPoke!"
Bitch slappin' has been taken to a level of far greater personal involvement than I am comfortable with. Used to be such a simple thing.
-"SuperPoke! lets you do stuff to the people you know. And you can do almost anything: try high-fiving, dropkicking, or throwing a sheep at your friends!!"
"Stuff" is pretty vague. It's a good thing they further limited the field to anything between high-fiving and throwing a sheep.
You can send your mom a bitchslap (b!*$% slap).
There is a little cartoon with it.
Facebook has little cartoons you can bitchslap (b!*$% slap) your mom with.
That, kids, is weird.
-"Before you can b!*$% slap Maria, you need to follow the steps below to set up SuperPoke! Be sure to click the "Allow" button on the following page to give us permission to send your SuperPoke!"
Bitch slappin' has been taken to a level of far greater personal involvement than I am comfortable with. Used to be such a simple thing.
-"SuperPoke! lets you do stuff to the people you know. And you can do almost anything: try high-fiving, dropkicking, or throwing a sheep at your friends!!"
"Stuff" is pretty vague. It's a good thing they further limited the field to anything between high-fiving and throwing a sheep.
2.21.2009
What the fuck, man.
I have the flu. What the fuck.
Work is the worst thing in the world, by the way. And I have to go there even though I'm sick. This morning I woke up at 6:30, got in the shower, got out of the shower, vomited, and went to work. And work was fucking nuts all day. I spent the whole goddamn time running back and forth batshit crazy trying to make the store function with too many customers and next to no employees. But I made it the whole goddamn day with vomiting again or passing out, which I wasn't so sure would happen. So gold star for me. I could only stay for three hours yesterday because I felt like I was dying. And you know what? I've got to go in again tomorrow morning, whether I'm still sick or not. Why? Because I'm goddamn reliable, that's why. And it pisses me off. I haven't called out once since I took this position last July. No matter what my condition is, no matter how much sleep I didn't get, or how much I drank the night before, or how sick I am (like, genuine sickness), I go in. And I hate it, dammit.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
Work is the worst thing in the world, by the way. And I have to go there even though I'm sick. This morning I woke up at 6:30, got in the shower, got out of the shower, vomited, and went to work. And work was fucking nuts all day. I spent the whole goddamn time running back and forth batshit crazy trying to make the store function with too many customers and next to no employees. But I made it the whole goddamn day with vomiting again or passing out, which I wasn't so sure would happen. So gold star for me. I could only stay for three hours yesterday because I felt like I was dying. And you know what? I've got to go in again tomorrow morning, whether I'm still sick or not. Why? Because I'm goddamn reliable, that's why. And it pisses me off. I haven't called out once since I took this position last July. No matter what my condition is, no matter how much sleep I didn't get, or how much I drank the night before, or how sick I am (like, genuine sickness), I go in. And I hate it, dammit.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
2.12.2009
It just never came up!
I've realized that I have no idea how to talk to women. I don't mean in a casual, conversational situation or whatnot; a significant percentage of my closest friends have always been women, I grew up with living with my mother and my sister, etc. I'm perfectly comfortable with women in almost every situation I can think of, more so than the majority of men my age. But it's that one scenario, that introduction, that gets me. If I have no interest in the woman romantically, I have no problem striking up a conversation if it's a socially appropriate scenario. If I do wind up in conversation with a woman I AM interested, that's cool too. No problems, no worries, just see where it goes. BUT
If I'm out, or at work, or whatever, and I see a beautiful woman who also could be very interesting, I have no idea how to start up a conversation that does not sound like a cheeseball sitcom scenario. I know all the opening lines, but I can't bear to say them. Because they always sound too contrived in my head. When I think of approaching an attractive, interesting woman and asking where she's from or something similar, I hear Ryan Reynolds delivering the lines. And that's not good.
The problem is that I've never had to do that. I know that sounds egotistical, but it's not. It's not that I've always had women falling all over me; it's because I've gone from one long-term relationship to another over the last six years. I've had three serious relationships over the last six years, and they were all pretty much back-to-back. Granted, this last one and I broke up a grand total of three times, but the first two I wasn't interested in pursuing other women at all, I just wanted to die. I did get involved with someone the second time, but that was a totally retarded scenario (because I'm an idiot) and I don't want to talk about it. ANYWAY
Those three relationships also didn't start with a random meeting. They started because of a common prolonged scenario- school, school, and work, respectively. They just kind of happened after a while. But APPARENTLY some people actually approach strangers with the intent of getting involved with them in some way. And I'm finally understanding the need or the desire to do that; I just don't understand the execution quite yet. This, clearly, is irritating.*
So... I feel kind of behind the curve.
Another issue with these types of scenarios is jail. Essentially, if you are a 21 year old male in the year 2009, can be difficult for you to accurately judge the correct age of a girl anywhere between 16 and 22. Because, to the great dismay of many a parent, girls are maturing much younger nowadays. And they do their best to appear to be over 18. This, friends, is a problem. A girl could be 22, but look 16... so you don't go for it. Or a girl could be 16 and look 21... then daddy kills you. But you can't really introduce yourself and be like, "Can I see some ID?"
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
*Also, I've had this obnoxious ringing in my left ear all day, and that is quite irritating. If I wake up dead tomorrow I'm gonna be pissed.
If I'm out, or at work, or whatever, and I see a beautiful woman who also could be very interesting, I have no idea how to start up a conversation that does not sound like a cheeseball sitcom scenario. I know all the opening lines, but I can't bear to say them. Because they always sound too contrived in my head. When I think of approaching an attractive, interesting woman and asking where she's from or something similar, I hear Ryan Reynolds delivering the lines. And that's not good.
The problem is that I've never had to do that. I know that sounds egotistical, but it's not. It's not that I've always had women falling all over me; it's because I've gone from one long-term relationship to another over the last six years. I've had three serious relationships over the last six years, and they were all pretty much back-to-back. Granted, this last one and I broke up a grand total of three times, but the first two I wasn't interested in pursuing other women at all, I just wanted to die. I did get involved with someone the second time, but that was a totally retarded scenario (because I'm an idiot) and I don't want to talk about it. ANYWAY
Those three relationships also didn't start with a random meeting. They started because of a common prolonged scenario- school, school, and work, respectively. They just kind of happened after a while. But APPARENTLY some people actually approach strangers with the intent of getting involved with them in some way. And I'm finally understanding the need or the desire to do that; I just don't understand the execution quite yet. This, clearly, is irritating.*
So... I feel kind of behind the curve.
Another issue with these types of scenarios is jail. Essentially, if you are a 21 year old male in the year 2009, can be difficult for you to accurately judge the correct age of a girl anywhere between 16 and 22. Because, to the great dismay of many a parent, girls are maturing much younger nowadays. And they do their best to appear to be over 18. This, friends, is a problem. A girl could be 22, but look 16... so you don't go for it. Or a girl could be 16 and look 21... then daddy kills you. But you can't really introduce yourself and be like, "Can I see some ID?"
BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
*Also, I've had this obnoxious ringing in my left ear all day, and that is quite irritating. If I wake up dead tomorrow I'm gonna be pissed.
2.06.2009
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh
iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'm soooooooooooooooooooooooooooo tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired
i just want to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
i just want to sleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep
Damn It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta
6:30AM: Alarm goes off. Lament going to sleep only 3 hours prior. Try to set alarm for half an hour later (7AM), but actually set it for 7:30 because I'm still drunk.
7:30AM: Alarm goes off. What the fuck? My head hurts.
7:35-7:45AM: Peel myself off the futon. Put on pants and deodorant. Brush teeth. Change shirt. Put on boots. Hate myself.
7:45AM: Hover in the doorway staring out at the clouds. Grab umbrella. Leave for work. It is freezing out.
7:55AM: Vomit on the sidewalk outside of King's Fish House, then it starts raining. This is either a really dramatic movie about an alcoholic/drug addict, or a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Light a cigarette and continue on my way. Screwdrivers are better on the way down. So are Carl's Jr's chili cheese fries and fried zucchini (why I do that at 2AM I have no idea).
8:07AM: Arrive at work 7 minutes late, soaking wet and shivering. I hate today. Am I still drunk? I can't tell.
8:30AM: Power nap begins, but ends abruptly. Text a friend to tell him I puked in front of King's Fish House on my way to work, get idea for this blog.
7:30AM: Alarm goes off. What the fuck? My head hurts.
7:35-7:45AM: Peel myself off the futon. Put on pants and deodorant. Brush teeth. Change shirt. Put on boots. Hate myself.
7:45AM: Hover in the doorway staring out at the clouds. Grab umbrella. Leave for work. It is freezing out.
7:55AM: Vomit on the sidewalk outside of King's Fish House, then it starts raining. This is either a really dramatic movie about an alcoholic/drug addict, or a Bugs Bunny cartoon. Light a cigarette and continue on my way. Screwdrivers are better on the way down. So are Carl's Jr's chili cheese fries and fried zucchini (why I do that at 2AM I have no idea).
8:07AM: Arrive at work 7 minutes late, soaking wet and shivering. I hate today. Am I still drunk? I can't tell.
8:30AM: Power nap begins, but ends abruptly. Text a friend to tell him I puked in front of King's Fish House on my way to work, get idea for this blog.
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