It's a living.

3 types of people

In this world we live in, I have always had a problem with the people that inhabit it. I mean, really, unless your a dog, I probably have little civil feelings for you. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I'm going to go into a Walgreens and shoot up the place just to take you out, it just means that I tend to see people as stereotypes. I don't bother to look inside of a person when their outside is so ridiculous and obvious that even a mirror shutters. I've condensed all of my own stereotypes into 3 main groups: The Pretentious Hipster Dick, The Look At Me I Need Attention Whore, and of course The Upper-Middle Class Anarchist. Let's look at each of them!

 

The Pretentious Dick

      This specimen is a very common breed and can found anywhere, although they tend to congregate on college campuses, coffee shops, and Williamsburg, Brooklyn, NY. While they are not always outfitted in a lavender, deep-V shirt and ironic mustache, this is a common portrayal of the Pretentious Hipster Dick. 

      This breed lives and breathes and eats to bring you down a peg. If you have ever been on a high horse, this creature will knock you off of it and claim animal cruelty as well as tell you about a song about horses by a band you've probably never heard of all while sipping their free trade vanilla soy chai latte and staring at their facebook on their Macbook inside of a Starbook....er, Starbucks.

Examples of The Pretentious Dick: hipsters, philosophy/film/theater majors, vegans, British people, the rich and the rich who pretend they're poor, and Julian Assange.

The Look-At-Me I Need Attention Whore

      While not nearly as infuriating as The Pretentious Dick, The Look-At-Me I Need Attention Whore's are of greater quantity in the world therefore making them often more rage inducing. The picture above is not typical by any means of this specimen, but it is commonly found on college campuses and the bars around college campuses. This is the girl that flashes the band one minute and slaps her boyfriend for getting fresh the next.
      One of the easiest ways I've found to spot this creature when they are in disguise is to simply go to any Mexican restaurant. While you're searching through the numbered dinner specials and stuffing your face with chips and salsa, you'll hear a distinct sizzling sound. You'll smell cooked meat. Then you'll see it. Fajitas going to the attention whore at table 12. That's right, fajitas are the food of choice for The Look-At-Me I Need Attention Whore because what happens when fajitas are ordered at any Mexican restaurant? Everyone looks and everyone stares, jaw open, at the narcissistic customer who ordered such an attention grabbing dish.
Examples of The Look-At-Me I Need Attention Whore: drunk girls at bars, gay men, straight men when girls are present, people with subs in their cars, the cast of Jersey Shore.

The Upper-Middle Class Anarchist

      This final category of low-lifes can actually go by many names. Some call them rebels, others call them punks, still others can call them trust fund hippies or Ras Trents. No matter what you name it, this specimen is the epitome of a hypocrite. So mommy and daddy would rather buy your happiness rather than spend time with you, huh? How do you repay them? Pretend to be part of the dregs of society while living a double life with an unlimited supply of money. Shopping at Hot Topic doesn't make you an enemy of the state and bathing in patchouli oil doesn't make you one with the earth.

      In the picture we see more of the rebellious, punk version of The Upper-Middle Class Anarchist, but they can come in many different varieties. The kid drawn above spent his hefty allowance at the mall to buy black things. The left over cash will then be used to eat at Cinn-a-bon and buy cigarettes. Hardcore, d00d. Another familiar type of this creature is the trust fund hippie or "Ras Trent." Those who live in the mountains of North Carolina will immediately place these folks in such towns like Asheville and Boone. The Ras Trents spend their expendable income on djembes, Birkenstocks, and pot. When they're not busy playing hacky sack and sitting in drum circles, they spend their time mainly dissing the corporations that their parents probably work for. (Sometimes these kinds of Upper-Middle Class Anarchists can be confused with Pretentious Dicks).
Examples of The Upper-Middle Class Anarchist: hippies with money, thugs with money, punks with money.

 

Asshole Blogger

      The worst of the worst is pictured above. This is the Asshole Blogger that spends his days criticizing others and the way they choose to live their lives. This kind of creature is the most fowl of all the creatures listed here because not only does he hate others, but he does nothing about it but write derogatory statements about others on his blog that only 5 people follow.

      This specimen can usually be seen conversing and making friends with those he has slandered. Is he making a mockery out of others or himself? Perhaps he just enjoys a good laugh with others who choose to laugh with him. Either way, always steer clear of this Asshole Blogger because you never know when you could become new material.

2011 begins

As if it hasn't been said enough, I really do wish everyone a very happy new year. I am happy that you made it another 365 days without doing too much harm to yourself or others. I am happy that these next 365 days will surely prove to be eventful and unexpected. But with happiness aside, I would just like to talk briefly about resolutions.

We all make them and we all keep them for right around a month or so. My resolution is to loose some weight. This is how I see it playing out:

 

Luckily for me, it's not about my body image as much as it is about doing something productive. Also, I need to be able to fit (comfortably) back into my suit. My main strategy is to pace myself and do my best to not burn out on it all. I'm incorporating more water and less soda for now. It's a start and I have the whole year to get to the point where I'm running marathons.

As far as everyone else and all of the assortment of resolutions being put into action or thought about being put into action, I wish the best of luck. I know I'll start tracking my weight at the bottom of each entry I put in here. (starting next blog) ((Already procrastinating)).

My Christmas BuFu'd yours today.

And here's why.

Most of my peers and others who are in their mid 20's will most definitely remember this guy:

 

That's right! It's Bozo the Clown and as a child of the mid/late 80's and early 90's, this was THE show to watch. This show was filled with everything that made television good back in those days. It was a variety show where Bozo would interview tongue-tied kids, do skits with special guests of the show, throw a pie in his sidekick, Cookie's, face, and of course show a cartoon (normally it Popeye the Sailor). 

Now for all of you few who are reading this and are have crazy flashbacks of this show, then you will SURELY (don't call my Shirly) remember the best part of the show:

 

THE GRAND PRIZE GAME! The seemingly easy challenge of throwing ping pong balls into 6 buckets. The game was riddled with prizes, as every successful attempt won you a different prize. The first couple of buckets generally awarded a Bozo doll or balloon, then a Bozo cake, then some other I-gotta-have-it-so-I'll-forget-about-it-in-a-month toy. At bucket 4, though, shit got real. Bozo lost his mind and started giving kids new bikes, game systems, tv's, fuckin' 50 dollar bills, and the final bucket always awarded a trip to Space Camp or Universal Studios. I mean, this was essentially a syndicated public access show that obviously had deep, deep pockets. 

So, two post cards were drawn from a big spinning ball then a boy and a girl were picked randomly from the audience. The post cards represented a kid from somewhere else in the country who would win exactly what the corresponding player would win on the show. Now let me say this, most of the kids were complete shit at the throw-the-ball-in-the-bucket-that's-right-in-front-of-you game and I always felt bad for the unlucky kid watching at home as their dreams of going to Space Camp are crushed by the retarded, bi-focal clad kid who missed the first bucket. But when the winds blew east and the moon was high, a kid would make it through all the buckets, winning all of Bozo's toys, cakes, drug money, and trips, and then later on becoming a millionaire or something. My oh my, those were the days.

The reason I bring all of this up is to introduce you to my newest Christmas present. Because I am from North Carolina, going to the Bozo the Clown Show in Chicago was a bit difficult. I always dreamed of being able to play the Grand Prize Game and play it right. I would dominate and be the happiest kid in the world, but alas, distance kept me from my dreams. But now, almost two decades later, I have been given the gift that will keep on giving....

 

I am now the owner of my very own Grand Prize Game! Life at my house will never be the same as this game will become the deciding factor in many a household bickering. Who's doing the dishes? Grand Prize Game. Who's mowing the lawn? Grand Prize Game. Who's paying the bills? Grand Prize Game. Yes, life is going to be different for me from now own. Merry Christmas, everyone!

 

God vs. Science vs. Something cool

Tonight is the Winter solstice which normally means absolutely nothing to me (other being yet another thing to not think about this close to Christmas.) Tonight is different, though, because the earth is going to cast it's fat ass earth shadow on the moon. That's right, folks, lunar eclipse's is like whoa tonight. This amazing and beautiful spectacle of our universe will not happen again until 2014, and we all know the earth will be gone by then. So I got my front row tickets to this marvelous event, gungho on seeing the splendor of a PLANET that is revolving around a giant SUN in such a way that it BLOCKS THE LIGHT AND CASTS A SHADOW on THE MOON that is in turn revolving around said PLANET! It's a universal masterpiece and guess-the-hell-what; It's cloudy. Not rain clouds or snow clouds or even lightning and thunder clouds; just lunar eclipse-blocking clouds that have decided to ruin the night, the week, and Christmas.

At first I was like...

And then I was like...

So what does it mean? Clouds. How do they work? I speculate a few things: 1) God always has, and always will never want us, his most loved creation, to enjoy the brick-shitting miracles of the universe, just ask the Challenger crew. 2) Scientists intentionally pick the days in which it will be cloudy for most of the world and then announce "OMFG GAIZ, LUNARZ ECLIPSE TONIGHT!!!11! LOLZ!!!1" 3) Low pressure systems.

Either way, I'm gonna spray some aerosol so I can see space without that ozone glaucoma. 

Birthday steak

I celebrated my 24th birthday today in the same way most 24 years old would: I worked. Luckily, though, tonight there was a very special surprise waiting for me at my friend, Sarah's, house. See, normally Wednesdays are our "Dexter Wednesdays" anyway since she'll DVR the show, and well get together at watch it. Today being Wednesday and my birthday meant that she would apparently murder a large cow just for my stomach! I knew I was having steak, but I did not know it was going to be 36 oz of man-tear inducing pleasure. Here's an accurate drawing of the event. Click for more detail.

Anyhoo, cow with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy, broccoli, and cheese toast was my dinner and all other manner of mammal bowed before my feet. Also, lemon birthday cake.

Needless to say, this has been a wonderful birthday and I appreciate all of the pleasant comments and phone calls I received. You're looking good, 24, don't let me down.

These 3 pictures have something in common.

 

I know what today is.....