Thursday, November 23, 2006


Running Through A Pitbull Farm Screaming While Only Wearing Meat Pants

Sometimes it's like running through a pitbull farm screaming while wearing meat pants. But in the case of this blog it's the exact opposite. Nobody reads it, so nobody shoots it down with the comments either. So basically I can post whatever the hell I want, because I realize that nobody cares. That doesn't mean that it's true, nor does it mean it's not. It just means that whatever I say disappears into the ether without consequences simply because there's no audience to begin with. Who exactly is going to be pissed off and complain? Influenced to action? Nobody. Big whoop.

Unlike running through a pitbull farm screaming while wearing meat pants (basically being chased by an angry mob in a vicious escalating cycle), this blog is like yelling from a boat in the middle of the ocean. There's nobody around. If someone is, they know you can't do anything anyways. So I could yell whatever I want. More likely than not, my audience is only the fishes. They have other agendas, can't hear through the water, and even if they could hear me - they wouldn't know what the hell I was saying anyways. I'm just from a different world to them.

Wednesday, November 15, 2006


Dang I'm tired... And a bit pissed off too.

Anyhow, I'm tired but can't sleep exactly. I guess it's the fact very few appreciate those who pull the night shift. So I got to wake up to an (abandoned?) car being towed and then a leaf vacuum truck. So now it's a matter of waiting for quiet and my stiff back to straighten out so I can catch at least another four hours of sleep.

Also mom doesn't care that I'm up all night either. Because of this, there's this ridiculous expectation that because I'm still up that I should help out with any stupid chore she pulls out of her ass. This would be like asking someone on a normal shift that can't sleep, stayed up to 2AM, and is finally getting drowsy if they'd like to go mow the lawn or something. So my response was, not now - wait 'til I get up. Now she's all in a snit because of this false assumption that my mere presence means I'm ready to help out. Unless someone is dying or the house is on fire, it can wait... I'll get to it. But nooooooo... >:(

So now I've got to figure out how to get a roof over my head in another two months. Work isn't too bad, but my job doesn't pay shit. Well not shit for the actual costs of living in the U.S. My car needs work and its insurance is due. I've got a college loan to pay off. (Nice that there wasn't much help in finding a job to cover that even.) I've got a lot of stuff. And I doubt I'm crafty enough to get away with anything illegal. (Although I understand the temptation, since that would yield the most return in the least time. Unfortunately the risks are too high.) Pushing more hours with another job will probably cause me to snap and end up in jail too. For some reason, I get really really snippy without time to unwind. I'd be liable to just flip out and do something really stupid. (Yeah, my little while in the navy would have been a lot worse if there wasn't for inanimate objects I could destroy since they were being disposed of anyways. Better junk than people or valuable property I suppose.) A shelter won't work. (Did I mention I have stuff?) And covering rent isn't likely with the inflated prices around here. (Oh yeah, did I mention I'm white? I doubt I can claim six or so friends as 'cousins' to split rent and then pull the racist card if someone catches on to the scheme.) This sucks, since my stress level is yey high. (But I do appear calm on the outside. Uh oh... That's how those people we read about in the papers are too, aren't they? Deep breaths... Deep breaths... *sigh*)

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