Too Many Gadgets in the Fucking Car!

Maybe these car companies wouldn't be such failures if they had stuck to building normal fucking cars instead of pumping a bunch of stupid, pointless gadgets into everything. No, that wouldn't work. People are too fat and happy and gadget-crazy and they wouldn't buy sensible cars. Wake up, you morons! You have too many gadgets in the fucking car!

The following accessories, in my opinion, are completely dumb.

-Power anything. Locks, windows...what have you.
-DVD players
-TV
-Heated seats
-Automatic transmission
-Separate headphone jacks for each family member
-GPS
-Back-up camera/sensor
-Climate control

What kind of bullshit is climate control anyway? I wasn't aware that each seat had it's own "climate". It's a fucking bench, not the tropics. Christ...

And we wonder why there are so many car accidents. People are comatose behind the wheel. The car does fucking everything for these morons. They don't have to crank down a window, they don't have to change gears, they don't have to watch where they're going because they've got sensors to do that, they don't even have to know where they're going because Mr. GPS is there to help. All these people have to do is kick back with a Big Mac as they gab on their cell phones. Then it's the other guy's fault when they get into an accident.

What the hell happened to an engine, four tires, and a windshield? Oh, I guess that stopped being fun for people so we had to give them something to play with while they're careening down the highway in a ton of steel. Heaven forbid they're not being entertained at all hours of the day.

And we don't need fucking DVD players in the car! When I took family trips as a youngster I didn't have Power Ranger videos to take me there. I sat there in the back seat with a book, I shut the hell up, and I was grateful if we pulled over for some McDonalds at the halfway point. Now these kids get cranky if they don't get to watch Miley Cyrus on the 20 minute drive to ballet practice. And Pimp My Ride doesn't exactly help matters. They put like 400 TV screens in every vehicle they make over. I saw one where the headlights were little TV screens that looped VH1's Behind the Music: Snoop Dogg.

These modern cars are ridiculous. I'm waiting for the jacuzzi, jungle gym, and bunk beds.

Pussy Flaps

Sorry if you thought this entry was going to be juicy, but that's just my own little term for the sun visors in the car. Because it's a flap and only pussies use them.

I was inspired to write this as I drove down the highway yesterday with the sun in the west shining through my driver's side window. I swung the flap around to block it and then quickly became aware of my status as a complete pansy and swung it right back up. Real men don't use visors. They squint into the sun as they exhale a huge Marlboro drag from their leathery faces, hardened from working in the mines for 40 years. None of this "Boo hoo hoo, the sun's in my eyes" garbage. What a bunch of wimps.

You know who didn't use a sun visor? Dennis Fucking Hopper. Never mind the fact that he was on a motorcycle and a sun visor wasn't an option. Even if he were driving a car he would've ripped the bastard off and flung it into a ditch in New Mexico. Just a hat and a tasty pair of shades is all Dennis needs. Très badass, Mr. Hopper.

I know these pussy flaps are nothing new, but there is entirely too much useless crap in our cars.* If you're driving, grow some balls and squint it out. Save your whimpering for the tampon department where you're undoubtedly going if you use a sun visor.


*More on that later. I missed last night's update because of internet troubles so I owe you one.

Letter Openers

May I ask...who uses letter openers and if you do, what the hell are you thinking?

This has got to be one of the most useless things ever. I'm pretty sure 99% of the population would do just fine without one. Unless you've been hired to go through Miley Cyrus's fan mail, you have no business owning a letter opener.

What is wrong with the good ol' envelope finger fuck? It's traditional. It doesn't take any longer than using a letter opener. And most importantly, it doesn't make you look like a pampered douche.

Seriously, every time I use a letter opener (which is not often, mind you) I feel like I should be opening letters in a robe on the second-storey marble balcony of my secluded Colombian mansion as my wife hands me a mug of rich, dark, freshly-ground java. I feel like a prick. Like I'm above using my hand like the rest of the peons.

Letter openers are for rich assholes and the only acceptable way to be caught with one is if you're stabbing a guy who is actually using it for it's intended purpose.

That is all.

Breaking My Playstation 2

Today I broke my PS2. Apparently I'm not good at fixing things.

My PS2 was always used mainly for watching DVDs. I'm not a big gamer although I do play the odd round of Barbie Horse Adventures. Mostly, though, it was used for watching Anchorman for the 700th time at 4:30am after a night at the bar. Well...to be fair, it would have been the 699th and a quarter time if that was the case. Don't you love waking up at 1pm with the DVD title screen looping over and over?

But anyway. A while back the PS2 started acting up with DVDs. They wouldn't play properly. The movie would freeze every few seconds and continue to do so until you got fed up and turned the system off. And recently it just flat out stopped reading DVDs. Games were fine, but DVDs were like poison.

I looked into it and concluded that the lens must need cleaning. So I got instructions on how to open up the PS2 to clean it. And today I set out to finally nip the problem in the bud.

Let me say right now that opening up a PS2 is way harder than getting those hard-shell packages open. I went at this thing with screwdrivers and vice grips and scissors and it took me well over half an hour to get it open.

In the midst of prying and crying and screaming and swearing I managed to cut myself on a sharp edge on one of the pieces inside. It started to bleed and I thought to myself, "Oh no, oh shit, oh boy. This is bad, this is bad." I became worried and drove myself to the emergency room. Panicking, I entered the hospital and I was rushed immediately into one of the rooms where a doctor looked at my hand.

I still haven't been able to figure out why, but the doctor seemed none too pleased with me. I was still a little shaken from my accident so I didn't quite absorb everything he said. But "asshole" and "for real emergencies only" were tossed around quite a bit. Whatever. I think he was just jealous that I left with his last Flinstones Band-aid wrapped around my pinky. And why was that kid with the two broken femurs glaring at me as I passed back through the waiting room? Jeez, lighten up.

After I returned home I continued to try and fix my PS2 only to have it conk out completely. Nothing works. I think I must have damaged the ribbon that connects the reset and eject buttons to the rest of the system. It's fucking balls.

Now I have no DVD player, no video game console, and a wound on my right pinky (which apparently isn't that serious but it so totally IS!). Plus I have to live with the knowledge that I can't fix things for shit and as such, can never be labelled as a real man.

Fuck.

Daniel Cook

Daniel Cook makes me nervous. I'm kind of glad I've never met him in person and I'll explain why:

THE WELL-BEING OF MY BALLS.

If you don't know who Daniel Cook is, he's this red-headed kid who's on TV from time to time. Possibly on PBS, I don't know. His show is called "This is Daniel Cook" and it's just one of those shows that I always seem to stumble upon for no particular reason. But the whole premise is that Daniel Cook experiences or learns something (making pizza, exercising, going to the dentist) in approximately 6 minutes or less.

Anyway, back to my balls and why Daniel Cook makes me nervous. Don't worry, it's not as bad as that sounded. Let me direct you to this clip here:

Will you look at how this kid behaves? I've been around kids like this and they scare the shit out of me. The kids with poor coordination. The kids that are always absent-mindedly jumping around and clumsily bumping into everything. Because it makes me feel like one way or another I'm going to take a shot in the balls if I hang around them for too long.

Daniel Cook is someone who seems like
a) he will run up to me, punch me square in the balls, and run away laughing loudly. He seems like that kind of kid. You know kids like this? The ones that think it's funny to biff people in the nads for no reason other than their own amusement? And they're so remorseless. These instances always end with a grown man crying and the kid cackling loudly like the little shit that he is.

b) he will accidentally hit me in the balls. Okay, so maybe Daniel Cook is not the type to purposely hit everyone he sees in the balls. That doesn't mean my balls are safe. Maybe I've watched too many episodes of America's Funniest Home Videos but I have this constant fear of approaching children while their backs are turned to me. I've seen way too many children dancing around and suddenly the left elbow flies wildly out and the poor sap standing behind the child ends up in the fetal position wishing for sweet, sweet death. Daniel Cook, to me, seems like the type of kid that dishes out accidental nut shots a little too regularly.

Now that's my balls. My other problem with Daniel Cook is...who is he and who the hell thought he deserved a TV show? Again, back to my traffic light argument. I can't seem to find any background info on Daniel Cook. So until I see something to change my mind, I don't know why he has any right to his own TV show. He doesn't seem to have done anything to earn it. The show is called "This is Daniel Cook" as if he was already a household name and we're supposed to know who he is.

I don't understand. Why Daniel Cook? There are tons of better kids out there to host shows. Kids that can put some enthusiasm into the reading of their title slides. Kids who aren't hyper as fuck in one shot and then bored to tears the next. Kids who aren't constantly glancing around the room as they talk to whichever adult "teacher" is on the show. Seriously, watch a few episodes of Daniel Cook and you'll see what I mean. He clearly recites a question written for him and then as it's being answered he pays attention to everything in the room except the speaker. You'd think by the age of 8 the little bastard would develop some basic interviewing skills. I mean, come on, what else would he be doing all day?

I don't think I have any other problems with Daniel Cook, just that he's too clumsy and uncoordinated and I'd fear for my balls if I were ever around him. But those things alone are enough to get Daniel Cook onto my list.

Two and a Half Men

I don't get how this show is still on. Maybe I just have a different sense of humour but I just don't find it funny. It seems very predictable and many jokes are cliche. It just seems weird when the audience roars with laughter over a gag that's been done by several other people before.

People talk a lot about how we're being dumbed down and although I don't think that right away when I watch other shows, I do constantly have "dumb show" at the front of my brain as I watch Two and a Half Men. And yeah, I get that some people turn on the TV to escape and not think too much, this show just seems to be taking that notion to an embarrassing level. It's really not a show for intellectuals, but rather for Linda, the overweight stay-at-home-mom from Wisconsin. She's a good, friendly person, but damn, every time she speaks you'd think she was born yesterday. Just duuumb.

As the years pass I pray that the kid's entry into adulthood will bring the show to a much needed series finale. I really hope in a few years he moves out. It would have to be then end then, right? Would anyone watch Two Men? Would anyone watch the spinoff, One Frat Dipshit (Yes, Another One...)? Would Charlie Sheen have the colossal balls to adopt some other unfortunate kid and start the series all over again? Surely that would be enough for even the dumb people to say, "Nope, not a chance. Officially jumped the shark." Is there any "reasonable" way to keep the show running after the kid moves out?

Oh, and while we're on the subject, I could really do without people who sing the theme song to Two and a Half Men. First of all it sounds like it was "envisioned" by thin, 40-something guys in suits who drink way too much Starbucks on a daily basis. Douchebags. And I say "envisioned" because saying it was written probably gives someone more credit than they deserve. Second, you're not funny or cute by singing it. All it says to me is that you're entertained by a mediocre show and for that you get no points!

This show is like the Disney Channel for adults. Same lack of intelligence and undeserved hype, just with less glitter and Jonas Brothers. Yeah, fuck the Jonas Brothers too.

New Traffic Lights

Aren't they just the worst? They're the side affect of developing new plazas and whatnot. Or just making an intersection safer. But unless they're green, new traffic lights are a pain in the ass.

You see them up when the plaza's still being built. A dirty, incomplete intersection at first, and then one day you drive through and see the light stands, and then the traffic lights covered in heavy black cloth. You know the inevitable day will come when you'll have to slow down and stop for this bastard.

It's for this reason that I don't think very highly of new traffic lights. Because they're new! They just burst onto the scene. And suddenly they feel like they're running the show. Newborns aren't running companies from the moment they leave the womb. They have to earn responsibility and respect.

I feel this way about new traffic lights. Who are they to be telling me to stop? I don't have to listen to them. I've been around these parts a lot longer than they have. They should have to gain my respect before ordering me around. I want them to prove to me that they're capable of managing traffic flow. I don't just listen to any old schmo with flashing lights.

In any case though, I stop for them because they've got the law on their side. I think of it like the third-grade bully at school. The bully is just about ready to wail on some little kid and then the little kid's tenth-grade brother steps out and says, "I wouldn't do that if I were you." with his arms folded across his chest. The bully knows he can't win against someone bigger than him so he just kind of slinks away thinking, "Man, if you didn't have your brother on your side, boy the things you'd have coming to you, let me tell you..."

And that's how it is. Traffic lights raspberry me from behind the law's back. I can't stop for new traffic lights without thinking, "Why I oughta...two weeks ago I wasn't stopping for you and believe me, you're lucky I'm stopping now."

I'm tired of all these lights getting respect for nothing.

Going Green

Aren't we done with this crap yet? Apparently "going green" is on it's second wind. See, this bullshit all started when Al Gore destroyed the world with An Inconvenient Truth. Well, it certainly was inconvenient.

This movie exploded and for months literally the only thing I heard anywhere was any variation of the terms "green", "environment", "global impact", and possibly "carbon footprint." "Carbon footprint" may have emerged later on. But either way, all this green talk was infuriating.

Then it seemed to disappear for a little while and I thought maybe the hype was over and people weren't as douche-y as they once were. I guess I was wrong. I don't know if it's just because Earth Day was yesterday or if this environmental crap is gaining momentum again, but last week as I worked 9-5 and read the daily commuters' paper, I noticed every second article was about going green and reducing carbon footprints.

Now, it's not going green itself that annoys me, but it's 3 main things that seem to have come with the idea that do it.

1) People won't shut the fuck up about it. As I mentioned before about the daily paper on the subway, there's entirely too much green talk. If you want to waste your time saving the planet, be my guest, but please don't talk. I don't care about your hippie suggestions for me, I don't care about how you think I'm evil because I'm "not doing my part", I just don't care. Shut up. There is honestly no way to use "going green" in a positive way without sounding like a full-blown douche. It's an over-used expression like "tough economic times" and it sounds like it originated from rich, trendy, pompous white people.

2) People take it way too seriously. If you've read up until this point, you probably think I hate the planet. I don't. I throw my water bottles in the recycling just like the next guy. I don't go hucking trash bags into wetlands just for the fun of it. But I also don't go out of my way to ensure that every tiny little detail of my life is environmentally friendly.

Have you heard about green weddings? Not that I'm implying that getting married is a tiny little detail of life, but come on. Just have the fucking wedding and get it over with. One wedding is not going to destroy the planet, nor will several. It's just dumb. I'm curious to know, actually, if hookers are advertising themselves as "enviro-safe" to maximize on the "going-green dollar"...

2) People don't seem to realize that we're not going to be here forever. I don't know why everyone seems to think that humans are the only species to ever walk on earth, the planet has always looked this way, has always been the same temperature, and we'll be here forever without change and the planet will never, ever, ever change. It will always be exactly how it is right now. Were you born yesterday.

You know what I hope for? A giant asteroid. I hope it gets discovered tomorrow -- no, today. And in one week, they'll say, it'll crash right into the Canadian/U.S. border (just because we're the biggest douches on the planet) and wipe out 99.9 percent of species on earth. And everyone will be hanging around in the afterlife and I'll pipe up and declare, "Ha! How do like your environment now, you morons?"

If the earth gets to the point where humans can't survive (which it will some way or another regardless of whether or not you drive a Prius), fine. Humans aren't that important. Eventually we'll become another chapter in the history of the world. We'll become extinct and other life will evolve and hopefully it won't be nearly as dumb and self-centred as we are.

That's my opinion on this going green bullshit and I realize and accept that you might think I'm evil just because I have a different opinion than Al Gore and the mob of zombies that have chosen to follow him (everyone except me apparently).

But fuck you. I didn't waste any paper today writing this entry. And I just might skip showering today to save water. And forget flushing the toilet and wiping. Just more things wasted. So call me evil all you want, but I do my part for the environment in alternative ways. I may smell like shit, but I'm not a bad person.

My Shoe-Shopping Experience

Today I decided that I couldn't put it off another day. I had to go and buy new shoes. This was no casual shoe-shopping venture. This was a code red, "you should get down here now if you want to say your goodbyes" footwear emergency. A critical, shoes-aren't-going-to-last-the-hour situation. NFL running back Ryan Moats got nabbed by the cops as he sped to see my shoes one last time. He didn't make it. That's how bad my shoes were.

Now, I swear by Chuck Taylors and have been for years. It's a comfortable shoe despite failing in the waterproof department. It's one of the few types of shoes that don't look completely out of place on me. Dirty hippies don't wear Air Jordans very often. So I wanted a new pair of Chucks.

I haven't bought a new pair in probably 3-4 years. And I guess things have changed since I went shoe-shopping last. I went to the "B-list" sports store where I got my last pair and walked to the the shoe section as the sole of my left shoe clopped along the floor, slowly but surely breaking away from the rest of the shoe. My left shoe looked like this, only the rip went further, all the way around the back to the outside of the shoe.

When I got to the shoe section, I walked up and down the display wall several times, seeing heaps of overly flashy basketball shoes, but no Chucks. What the fuck? Ironically, the basketball shoe has been discontinued and all that's left is a bunch of bullshit shiny crap.

A little bit annoyed, I left the store because I had driven over half an hour to the other side of a busy, lunch-hour town. I drove back through town to the mall that would have only taken me 15 minutes to get to originally. I wondered to myself which stores would be best to check first because most stores would be bloody expensive. I'm a thrift store shopper and I'm used to buying hobo clothes for 5 dollars or less.

Zellers, Sears, and the Bay all had nothing. I should note that a guy like me generally seems out of place in any store in the mall besides the music store. I discovered that the Bay is not exactly targeted towards my kind. I feel quite certain that the store was ready to inform the police department of a young man shuffling through the perfume department, appearing homeless and possibly on narcotics. It's a presentable women's store, is my point.

At this time I realize I'm left with the choice of going home and improvising some serious shoe repair or manning up and visiting a sports store in the mall. My left shoe is about to buy the farm here. I'm either leaving the mall with a new pair of shoes on my feet or I'm going to be walking back to the car in my socks. Fuck it, I go to Foot Locker.

Me experience there wasn't as horrible as it could have been, but I still felt uncomfortable. I spotted the familiar canvas shoe on the top shelf and looked around for "friendly customer assistance." There were two girls working there and one was helping someone else. I talked to the other and she said she was helping someone as well. So I waited by my future shoes. And waited. These were two heavy-duty customers apparently. But no biggie. I didn't have to be anywhere.

Finally the girl I didn't talk to before came over and asked me if I needed help. I told her what size and what shoe I was looking for and waited while she searched the so-called "locker" in the back. I picture a school locker only many sizes larger and all the shoes are kept inside, secured by a giant novelty padlock.

As I was waiting all this time I had to listen to shitty, Auto-Tuned, R&B or whatever they're calling it. You know, with some suave black guy singing soulfully over horrid beats and saying "Girrrl" a lot? They always wear sunglasses and have thin beards? No?

Well, I got my shoes and they fit well and all the rest. The girl said she'd ring them up at the front and I proceeded to change back into my old shoes. RRRIIPP. Not happening. As I put my left shoe on, it came to terms with itself and walked into the light at the end of the tunnel. Not a second too soon, I thought. I'd be wearing the new shoes right out of the store.

I walked up to the register with my shoes under my arm and there's someone paying. After a second I realize they're not paying. They're bitching. Trying to get a refund. Just perfect. The girl is telling this guy store policies and apologizing and all the rest and he just isn't getting it. After a minute he realizes there is a homeless-looking kid standing behind him in sock feet. Maybe he has a stroke of sympathy and reflects on the sad state of this world in which a person so, so young has finally scrimped up enough money to afford a pair of shoes. But he let me go ahead of him. And I thought, "Take that, personal hygiene!"

Thankfully the shoes weren't overly expensive. At least not as much as I thought I might be paying at Foot Locker. Plus I used a gift card so I didn't pay that much at all. But this experience has taught me that I should give my shoes some time to enjoy retirement. My left shoe died in battle today as it dreamed of playing shuffleboard in Florida. It's something no shoe or it's family should ever have to go through.

Fucking Stoners...

Damn it. I went into the store at 4:28 this afternoon hoping for this. Instead I saw this. It only happened to this one aisle too! They're like locusts.

Now the cashier is being treated for PTSD and I spent 3 hours slowly buying my munchies.

Sigh. Happy 4/20 everyone.

Weird-Ass Baby Names

Is it just me or have celebrities gone clinically insane? I can let the occasional Candy or Trixie go. I still think they're kind of weird shortened versions of normal names (Candice and Beatrix) and they sound incredibly stripper-y, but I can let them slide. Some of these celebrity baby names though...good fucking gravy.

How can anyone think Fifi Trixibell or Pilot Inspektor is a good name for a kid? It's a good thing that these people are famous and have a lot of money because holy shit, are they going to be spending a fortune on their kid's therapy. I have a friend who shares his name with a famous gay musician and he's told me more than once how annoying it is to be associated with this musician ALL THE TIME despite the fact that he makes good music (or so I think). The funny thing is, my friend wasn't even named after this musician. It's just a rare enough name that people associate it with just this one musician.

It's kind of like being named Elvis when your parents weren't even fans of Presley. They just liked the name. But who else is named Elvis besides Presley and Stojko? Nobody. So you're stuck with people associating you with them for the rest of your life. I'm getting a little off-topic here though.

I mean, are you thinking of the kid when you name it something completely stupid? Maybe you think it's funny and cute, but how funny and cute is it going to be when li'l Hopper goes a-hopping right off the top of a building because he just can't take one more fucking day of all the tormenting?

Really, if you want to be clever and creative, paint a picture and come up with one of your dumbass names for it. But don't take it out on the poor little fuck. Tired of Jim and John and Mike and Mary and Stephanie? Fine. Don't get stupid about it. Name them one of these old-fashioned names that has gone out of style. Walter, Bertha, Priscilla, Milton, Abraham, Betty, Charles, Edwin, Harriet, Martha, Gene, Henry, Grace. Sensible names and they stand out because everyone else thinks Madison and Dylan are clever names. They're not.

I have to say though that Penn Jillette named his daughter something that truly made me laugh even though it's still dumb: Moxie CrimeFighter. It's almost like he himself thinks these over-the-top names are completely insane and wanted to satirize them by saying "You think Apple and Brooklyn are good? Check this shit out!" It sounds like a saucy superheroine's name. Clearly it's just Penn's humour but Bluebell Madonna (Geri Halliwell's kid) is not humour. It's just an empty-skulled has-been who thinks she's naming her daughter something precious and unique. Well, it's sickening.

All I'm trying to say is that shrooms and child-naming don't always mix.

Anti-Gay Marriage People

Seriously, what the fuck?! Are we living in the Dark Ages here? And by "we" I mean most of the States...which I'm not even affiliated with. But bear with me. What the fuck, man, what the fuck?

How can I say this clearly? How about...put down your voodoo book, take a look out the window, and get with the fucking times. Which coming from me, is pretty hypocritical. Again, bear with me.

I don't even understand why this is an issue to be perfectly frank. You don't want two people of the same sex to marry because your religion said it's wrong? Gays are going to hell?

Can I ask you an honest question? Yes? Okay:
HOW. DOES. THIS. FUCKING. AFFECT. YOU. IN. ANY. WAY?

If gays are going to hell (which they're not, you morons), fuck 'em. Does that somehow mean that when you supposedly get to heaven (for being a complete asshole to anyone who is slightly different from you, mind you), your eternal bliss will be hindered in some way? I honestly don't get these religious people who feel the need to stomp on anything that their "God" supposedly doesn't want. Look, if you're religious, go ahead and be religious. I don't agree with you, but I'm not stopping you. But when you try to impose your "God" on the entire world, that's when I get seriously pissed off.

Here's an idea: if you don't like gay marriage...DON'T FUCKING MARRY SOMEONE WHO'S THE SAME GENDER AS YOU! It's almost too simple! If you haven't noticed, there are a shitload of people on this earth who don't believe in your god. I sure as hell don't believe in this god that apparently loves everyone...oh, except for fags. Can I ask you something else? Did you just make this shit up, or...?

I know some gay people. Funny, none of them seem to emit that "pure evil" vibe. Could it be...because they're not? Could it be that they're (gasp) normal fucking human beings who are simply attracted to members of the same sex? No, that can't be it. They're obviously ill.

How do these anti-gay people sleep at night? On top of "I Know What's Best For Everyone" sheets, covered by a Fred Phelps blanket? All I'm trying to say is, concern yourself with your own life and stop imposing on other peoples' lives. Unless it's harming you or your property, just let it go. Complain all you want, but don't flat out ban gay marriage just because you don't believe in it. Many people do. You're not going to hell just because some lesbians got married so why do you care so much?

Let me say it again: complain all you want if you don't like something, but don't deny other people their freedoms. You don't see me going to the Supreme Court saying, "Look, we've simply got to ban Smart Cars, raisins, and Tim Geithner."

I write a shitty rant about it online and move on with my life. Let gay people marry each other. And grow up. You're acting like a complete tool. I have no witty out line for this one.

9-5

Don't get me wrong, usually I have a lot of fun writing these rants. But this week I just haven't been into it, which is dumb because this just happens to be the week when I've had a flood of ideas. See, I've been covering for a 9-5 guy at work this week and by the time I get home, all I want to do is jack off, take a shit, and go to bed. 9-5 is balls, I tell you!

Seriously, I've done the 9-5 thing before and every time it makes me completely understand why people go postal. Here's why.

-I hate going to bed when I'm not ready for bed. I'm not one of those people who can say, "Damn, I have to wake up at 4:30am. I better be in bed by 9 or 10." I go to bed when I'm tired or too god damned shitfaced to retain consciousness. If I force myself to go to bed, I lie awake until I'm actually tired and fall asleep. The voices in my head are seriously entertaining though.

-I hate waking up to repetitive electronic shrieking saying "Fuuuck...god damn it" over and over and over.

-I hate that it takes me 2 hours to commute to work, driving or taking public transit. Fucking horseshit. Either way, it's 2 hours of my life I'm wasting along with hundreds of other morons. Wow, I just had a brilliant idea. Just now. I'm going to donate my entire paycheque each week to any top-notch scientists who are working on teleportation. If they can get me from my house to my work instantly without all the fucking brake lights or subway transfers, they deserve some funding.

-I hate the fact that I'm actually required to shower and change my clothes every day. Are you serious?! What the fuck is this crap?!

-I hate dealing with bitter co-workers. I guess it's not entirely their fault, I mean, they work 9-5 and probably have been doing so much of their lives. I'm friggin' 23 and I hate everything about 9-5. How do these people feel at 55? I guess I can't blame them. But still. I just wish they were as optimistic about everything as I am.

-I hate being the most awesome person in the office. If any co-workers happen to be reading this, honestly, return to your offices. I don't need people constantly asking for a signed photo and I really have no use for the daily office parades you throw for me. Look, I'm really blown away by the fact that you made a golden chariot for me to ride in while a tall, white stallion pulls me down the hallway to my office. But the seat is a little too lumpy and one ass cheek always rides lower than the other and it feels weird. Like I might be curving my spine inappropriately. I mean, I'm flattered, but with my salary I can't afford a chiropractor.

I guess that's about it for now. I can't wait until next week when I don't have to work 9-5 and I can show up to work piss drunk every day. Unless...

Also, the answer to the title is four. Four...
As in "Four...the love of God, man, get yourself a fucking girlfriend already."



UPDATE: Literally less than a minute after posting this I discovered I beat Listman to a topic. I'm so fucking awesome!

Fashion Shit

OK, maybe I'm ignorant, I don't know. If you want to defend fashion shit, be my guest, but for now, here's my take on it.

One question: why does anyone pay attention to this meaningless garbage? Ah hell, here are more questions. Why is there a television channel devoted solely to fashion? Who is watching it? Can we find them a soul?

Why do people need to be told what to wear? Why do they need to be told what's in and what's out this fall season? Are these people insecure? Why do they need to obsess over fashion styles?

Christ, it's clothing. Put a fucking shirt on, go out, and find yourself a job. Fashion flair is not important. Have you seen some of the things these models come out wearing? Some of them come out dressed like peacocks or mermaids or some shit. Seriously, I never see anyone wearing this stuff besides the blank people on the runway. And if I ever did, "stylish and sexy" wouldn't be the first thing that comes to mind. It would be something more like "rich, snotty cunt."

And why do catalogues have massive sections with endless pictures of coats? They're all the same. You've seen them, the perfect smiling family of four wearing their winter coats, tossing fake snow at each other. That's not even reality. Reality would be a picture of the two kids rolling around in the slushy driveway fighting over a DS with half a snow-fort in the background. And dad would be inside watching syndicated episodes of Two and a Half Men while chain smoking Newports.

Back to coats though. You want to know what my coat looks like. Picture a brown, corduroy jacket from 1976 with half the ridges worn away. It has no buttons left and there is a big gash that has grown out of a small hole where one of the buttons used to be. This is pretty much my coat, only mine is way shittier. It truly is the jacket of a homeless man. But I stick by it because...right, it's a fucking coat. It keeps me warm. It's doing it's job. I'm not attempting to impress Her Majesty here.

Stop treating these fashion experts all over the media like they're walking capsules of class and sophistication. They're wasting their time with nonsense and someone needs to find them a real hobby fast.

Biker Gangs

This is some terror on two wheels, man. Now that the warm weather is here, the gangs have their bikes out and they're roaming the roads, pouncing on the weakest of the herd. And you'd better keep your nose up because their next victim could be YOU!

Scary shit I tell you. I don't trust biker gangs one bit. They're always smiling as I pass cautiously in my car. It makes me think they're up to something. I'm afraid that they know that a half a mile down the road a monstrous swarm of bikers will emerge from a hidden driveway and swoop in on me and kick my ass. Biker gangs are like wild hunting dogs. Lean, mean, and fierce as a motherfucker.

And they're armed to the teeth too. Oh yeah, you didn't know? Let me tell you, under each biker's faggoty yellow spandex suit lies an arsenal of no less than 12 deadly weapons. You'd never know it by looking at them, but they're there and the bikers DO use them. Semi-autos, crossbows, even some of these daunting things. Serious fucking business.

You see biker gangs a lot, but every so often you'll see a rider travelling alone. Or so you think. For every lone rider you see, I guarantee you there are at least 25 bikers covering him from the wings. You never see them though. They're like ninjas. You fuck with the lone rider and your ass is grass before you even realize what's going on.

Biker gangs, you come from the worst part of hell, and I'm onto you. I hide my family in the attic when I see you rolling slowly down my street like a swarm of locusts in protective headgear. You frighten children without remorse. Alas, there is not much we can do. We're the prey and you're the predator and you're simply too powerful for us to fight back. So for now the only thing we can really do is to not poke the bear.

I've said what I need to and I'm happy with it. Oh, and stop taking up so much space on the damn road. Honestly...trying to drive here.