So I'm in my 30s now. I have to say... I'm not a fan. Nor do I think I'm going to be a fan of my 40s or 50s. 60s, much like the decade, gets much better the later you get into it, but 70s.... old fuck territory. That's the life for me.
You see, I think I enjoyed being a baby. I don't have any way knowing for sure since I don't remember being a baby, but I'm pretty sure life was good then. And being an old fuck sounds pretty nice in practice. It's all this in-between shit stuff that really sucks.
Once you've become an "adult", you have to start earning your life, working for it. You think, "Well, I'll work, but things won't change." And yet invariably, they do. You can pull that off when you're in your twenties. Once you hit your thirties it becomes harrrrrrrd.
Here's my typical day right now:
I get up at 6am, then fall back asleep until 7am. I get up, feed my cats, try to read some news or watch TV from the night before. Then I'm out the door by 7:45. I get to work around 8:30 and there I stay until 7pm. Then it usually takes an hour to get back home. Upon reaching home I play with the cats for twenty minutes, eat my dinner, and fall asleep trying to catch up on TV.
DOES THIS SOUND LIKE A GOOD FUCKING EXISTENCE TO YOU?!?!?!
Free time is the ultimate double-edged sword. Not enough of it and you go insane. Too much of it and you go broke.
Granted, there are the weekends. And you can utilize that free time any way you want. I tend to use it by sleeping and catching up on television as well as all of the masturbating I forgot to do during the week. It's pretty epic, actually. Here's something I learned recently: If you go a long time without jackin' it, you eventually build up enough semen to simultaneously demolish your house while at the same time rebuilding it into it's new form: a very sticky yacht. Look it up. It's science.
Being an old fuck sounds great though. You get to sit around and nobody calls you lazy because... well... you're alive. You get to eat all the shitty food you want because what's the worst that's gonna happen? You're gonna die? No shit! People have to be nicer to you. You can nap whenever you want... even in traffic.
Of course, I've realized that this topic isn't new to me. I've had responsibility thrust upon me since I was 11, so maybe I just missed out on a bunch of shit and am cranky. Maybe I'll end up doing it backwards: responsible at first before finally getting old and doing a bunch of drugs and fucking random strangers until I die. Could be fun. Works for Michael Douglas.
All I know is I know two things:
1.) Being an adult means saying goodbye to a bunch of shit you don't really want to say goodbye to yet. Therefore I will never be an adult.
2.) I'm gonna see the fuck out of Guardians of the Galaxy this weekend, because I earned it.
Thursday, July 31, 2014
Saturday, July 26, 2014
Fuck Twitter
Guess what? Twitter can suck my balls at 140 characters per minute.
That's right motherfuckers! We're back! And by we I mean me... once a thriving late-teen-going-on-early-twenties turned into a balding sad-sack pathetic piece of shit 30-year-old..... which... well... now that I think of it, apart from the balding, is pretty much the same.
Nonetheless! For the first time in forever my brain has words that need to not be in them and I'm not going to just sit around and wait for the opportunity to come. So this is it... My opportunity! I have to- wait... one sec-
*listens to that Eminem song, gets pumped*
Okay! I'm back!
So without further ado, I officially resurrect Fucktitles with the following ponderance:
Remember when you used to the reach into a bag of bread or cheese and, when grabbing your preferred slice(s), you accidently brushed a knuckle or fingertip or your penis across a piece? Then, when you came back the next day to make sweet love to the bread again, you discovered it was all moldy and gross and unfuckable?
Well... bread and cheese don't really do that anymore. In fact, as pointed out on tonight's Real Time with Bill Maher, even hot dog buns last forever. Some of you younger readers out there may not remember this, but there was a time when hot dog buns used to spoil somewhere between you pulling it out of the bag and about halfway down your esophagus. Now you can leave the bag out in direct sunlight for six straight days and the buns will be as fluffy and palatable as ever (And by palatable, I of course mean "tastes like bread-flavored packing foam").
I could probably do a bunch of research on it (And believe me, there is nothing I love more than falling down a Wikihole over some random inane thought I had while on the toilet; thanks for turning my OCD into full-blown academic schizophrenia, INTERNET!), but instead I will face reality: It's coming up on 3am, I started this thing on a whim.... Who knows if I'll even update it beyond this. Hopefully I'll have shit to say. Or at the very least a lot of downtime at work to dick around on the computer. At the very least I have an excuse to download another app for my iPad. So... Instead of all that research bullshit, I'm just gonna pull something random out of my ass and say......
Chemicals?
Yeah. Sure. Chemicals.
*******************************************
RANDOM THOUGHTS IN LIST-Y FORMS ALSO RETURNS! (AKA SOMEBODY CLEARLY TOOK MY IDEA AND THEN TURNED IT INTO TWITTER, SO DOUBLE-FUCK TWITTER, BUT NOT REALLY BECAUSE THAT BUZZ MCAGIN GUY SEEMS PRETTY COOL.... or wait... was that the guitarist from Guns N' Roses? No no no... That was Duff McKagen....Who the hell is Buzz Mc- Oh fuck, I'm still in a parenthetical-)
-With age comes many graces and many follies. By follies i mean you poop your pants and by graces I mean all the other times you don't poop them.
-I saw a mime pretending to slit his wrists on the sidewalk then bleeding out and dying. Shortly after that an ambulance showed up. All of sudden, thirty clowns came bursting from the back and loaded him onto a stretcher, then into the back of the ambulance and they drove off. Didn't leave a tip jar or anything. Hope he made it.
-I am never spending $100 on a cat tower again. Instead I'm gonna find the cheapest, largest thing on Amazon I can buy and just let my cats be happy with the box.
-The one nice thing about driving around with an expired registration is that if, before driving, you shove a handful of sand up your asshole, by the time you've reached your destination you'll shit a shiny new snow globe. And everybody loves snowglobes.
-I may be old, but these kung fu kicks ain't old. Heeyah!
-Decoding the message of the Green Day song "Longview" through an extended period of personal experience? Not the best life plan.
-I got to work on that show Drunk History. The host, Derek, was very nice.
-I met Samuel L. Jackson. Didn't work up the nerve to say I loved his work on "Hannibal". The man would have killed me, joke or not. You don't fuck with Nick Fury. Period. (eww)
-One time when I was young I saw a kid from my neighborhood near a local creek. He had this medium-sized turtle on it's back. It was rocking back and forth, trying desperately to get back up. Eventually it would work up enough momentum to flip itself upright and would begin to shamble away slowly... only to have this kid pick him back up and put him down on his back again. I watched him do this a couple of times before I finally walked up to him and said, "Why are you doing that?" He said, "Because it's funny." And I asked, "Why/" And he said, "Because it's frustrated." And I asked, "But why is that funny to you?" And then he pushed me on the ground and kicked me in the stomach, then walked off. I lay there for a moment on my back, feeling confused and angry and hurt... But eventually I sat up, got the air back in my lungs, reached over to flip the turtle back over and THE MOTHERFUCKER BIT ME! HE BIT ME!!!
Okay...
A.) HE CAN BITE!? WHY DIDN'T HE BITE THE FUCKING KID WHO WAS FUCKING WITH HIM!?!?
and-
B.) WHY WOULD HE BITE THE ONE PERSON TRYING TO HELP HIM!!?!
I'll tell you why: Because he didn't respect me. He respected the bully, mostly out of fear, but me... He knew I was soft. And he exploited that softness. And if you're wondering why I started off by referring to the turtle in the gender-neutral "it" before switching to the gender-specific "he", it's because I know for a fact that he was a he. Because he whipped out his turtle dick and pissed all over the side of my shirt while I was doubled over, trying to stop the jet of blood flowing from my... well... .for the sake of time, we'll call it a finger. But if we were being more accurate it would be described by a sound best transcribed as "Gyaaaahhhhhh!" Also it rubbed it's shitty as in my hair when it walked by.
So what's the moral to this story? Well... Frankly I don't know. Maybe it's about perspective. Maybe it's all about how I had the situation wrong. The kid wasn't the bully, he was the hero. And I was the liberal douche who came along and judged without context. People are gonna be douchey and do douchey things... but sometimes not necessarily for douchey reasons.
My point is... I don't know. Fuck turtles. Fuck them so hard. Seriously, if you go out into the world tonight and see a turtle... kick it in it's fucking face. Drop kick that motherfucker into orbit. Or if you're wearing open-toed shoes... just tip it onto it's back.
In traffic.
On the highway.
Covered in AIDS.
That's right motherfuckers! We're back! And by we I mean me... once a thriving late-teen-going-on-early-twenties turned into a balding sad-sack pathetic piece of shit 30-year-old..... which... well... now that I think of it, apart from the balding, is pretty much the same.
Nonetheless! For the first time in forever my brain has words that need to not be in them and I'm not going to just sit around and wait for the opportunity to come. So this is it... My opportunity! I have to- wait... one sec-
*listens to that Eminem song, gets pumped*
Okay! I'm back!
So without further ado, I officially resurrect Fucktitles with the following ponderance:
Remember when you used to the reach into a bag of bread or cheese and, when grabbing your preferred slice(s), you accidently brushed a knuckle or fingertip or your penis across a piece? Then, when you came back the next day to make sweet love to the bread again, you discovered it was all moldy and gross and unfuckable?
Well... bread and cheese don't really do that anymore. In fact, as pointed out on tonight's Real Time with Bill Maher, even hot dog buns last forever. Some of you younger readers out there may not remember this, but there was a time when hot dog buns used to spoil somewhere between you pulling it out of the bag and about halfway down your esophagus. Now you can leave the bag out in direct sunlight for six straight days and the buns will be as fluffy and palatable as ever (And by palatable, I of course mean "tastes like bread-flavored packing foam").
I could probably do a bunch of research on it (And believe me, there is nothing I love more than falling down a Wikihole over some random inane thought I had while on the toilet; thanks for turning my OCD into full-blown academic schizophrenia, INTERNET!), but instead I will face reality: It's coming up on 3am, I started this thing on a whim.... Who knows if I'll even update it beyond this. Hopefully I'll have shit to say. Or at the very least a lot of downtime at work to dick around on the computer. At the very least I have an excuse to download another app for my iPad. So... Instead of all that research bullshit, I'm just gonna pull something random out of my ass and say......
Chemicals?
Yeah. Sure. Chemicals.
*******************************************
RANDOM THOUGHTS IN LIST-Y FORMS ALSO RETURNS! (AKA SOMEBODY CLEARLY TOOK MY IDEA AND THEN TURNED IT INTO TWITTER, SO DOUBLE-FUCK TWITTER, BUT NOT REALLY BECAUSE THAT BUZZ MCAGIN GUY SEEMS PRETTY COOL.... or wait... was that the guitarist from Guns N' Roses? No no no... That was Duff McKagen....Who the hell is Buzz Mc- Oh fuck, I'm still in a parenthetical-)
-With age comes many graces and many follies. By follies i mean you poop your pants and by graces I mean all the other times you don't poop them.
-I saw a mime pretending to slit his wrists on the sidewalk then bleeding out and dying. Shortly after that an ambulance showed up. All of sudden, thirty clowns came bursting from the back and loaded him onto a stretcher, then into the back of the ambulance and they drove off. Didn't leave a tip jar or anything. Hope he made it.
-I am never spending $100 on a cat tower again. Instead I'm gonna find the cheapest, largest thing on Amazon I can buy and just let my cats be happy with the box.
-The one nice thing about driving around with an expired registration is that if, before driving, you shove a handful of sand up your asshole, by the time you've reached your destination you'll shit a shiny new snow globe. And everybody loves snowglobes.
-I may be old, but these kung fu kicks ain't old. Heeyah!
-Decoding the message of the Green Day song "Longview" through an extended period of personal experience? Not the best life plan.
-I got to work on that show Drunk History. The host, Derek, was very nice.
-I met Samuel L. Jackson. Didn't work up the nerve to say I loved his work on "Hannibal". The man would have killed me, joke or not. You don't fuck with Nick Fury. Period. (eww)
-One time when I was young I saw a kid from my neighborhood near a local creek. He had this medium-sized turtle on it's back. It was rocking back and forth, trying desperately to get back up. Eventually it would work up enough momentum to flip itself upright and would begin to shamble away slowly... only to have this kid pick him back up and put him down on his back again. I watched him do this a couple of times before I finally walked up to him and said, "Why are you doing that?" He said, "Because it's funny." And I asked, "Why/" And he said, "Because it's frustrated." And I asked, "But why is that funny to you?" And then he pushed me on the ground and kicked me in the stomach, then walked off. I lay there for a moment on my back, feeling confused and angry and hurt... But eventually I sat up, got the air back in my lungs, reached over to flip the turtle back over and THE MOTHERFUCKER BIT ME! HE BIT ME!!!
Okay...
A.) HE CAN BITE!? WHY DIDN'T HE BITE THE FUCKING KID WHO WAS FUCKING WITH HIM!?!?
and-
B.) WHY WOULD HE BITE THE ONE PERSON TRYING TO HELP HIM!!?!
I'll tell you why: Because he didn't respect me. He respected the bully, mostly out of fear, but me... He knew I was soft. And he exploited that softness. And if you're wondering why I started off by referring to the turtle in the gender-neutral "it" before switching to the gender-specific "he", it's because I know for a fact that he was a he. Because he whipped out his turtle dick and pissed all over the side of my shirt while I was doubled over, trying to stop the jet of blood flowing from my... well... .for the sake of time, we'll call it a finger. But if we were being more accurate it would be described by a sound best transcribed as "Gyaaaahhhhhh!" Also it rubbed it's shitty as in my hair when it walked by.
So what's the moral to this story? Well... Frankly I don't know. Maybe it's about perspective. Maybe it's all about how I had the situation wrong. The kid wasn't the bully, he was the hero. And I was the liberal douche who came along and judged without context. People are gonna be douchey and do douchey things... but sometimes not necessarily for douchey reasons.
My point is... I don't know. Fuck turtles. Fuck them so hard. Seriously, if you go out into the world tonight and see a turtle... kick it in it's fucking face. Drop kick that motherfucker into orbit. Or if you're wearing open-toed shoes... just tip it onto it's back.
In traffic.
On the highway.
Covered in AIDS.
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