My copy of this book had an introduction that was like 20 pages long, so that's a huge minus in points. After that there was Thomas Paine's introduction. So this book is basically unreadable.
First paragraph is about abuses of power and the evils of tyranny. Paine seems worried that his words won't be "fashionable". Well what was in fashion for the day was slavery. American independence didn't do away with that so, this is already kind of reading like a propaganda pamphlet.
He mentions that as a colony grows it has to have a more limited parliament because the concerns of the public will be many and mostly trifling. I only know trifling as a way of describing hoes that apparently cheat on their boyfriends and then talk on the phone with them afterwards. They also appear to allow the man they cheated with to record the experience and post it online. The source that I'm citing there is porn.
There is some pointless rambling about how people are greeted in the book. I thought this book was supposed to be about guns, burgers and bald eagles. Isn't that what they mean by "American Classic"?
When I think American classic, I should be hearing the national anthem and be on the verge of dropping a little red white and blue tear. Not wading through page after page of complaints. Thomas Paine seems like the kind of guy that would call customer service and bitch them out over nothing and then demand a refund. Then he'd start his own company in the same niche.
Paine felt the need to include his accounting homework for the British navy. Americans do not count other country's battleships unless we are keeping a running tally of how many we've blown up. Read this book if you want to learn more about the forming of our country, but definitely not for entertainment.
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Video Game Review: Resident Evil: Umbrella Chronicles and Darkside Chronicles Wii (2007 & 2009)
Both games are light gun games that you can play with a friend. They are supposed to flesh out the story from Resident Evil games that came before resident evil 4 I believe. If I wanted a history lesson I would consult my former uninterested high school history teacher about the historical context of Marcus Aurelius's Meditations. But I don't want a history lesson and these games are ass.
The thing I love about a light gun game is being able to shoot a lot of targets in a short amount of time with a good degree of intensity. The zombies do not die quick enough. Sure you can kill them in one shot with a head shot sometimes, but not all of the time. I want it to work every time so I can go racing through your levels. I think the action in these games would excite only my aforementioned history teacher who probably works as a security guard on the weekend. I'm saying that because he was fat and boring. That's pretty much it. That also summarizes what I think of security guards.
You can enjoy anything that you do with a friend. That's about it for these games. You could probably have a good time trying to build your own coffee machine with a friend. You might even enjoy building your own meth lab with a friend, but that doesn't mean that you should do either or play these games.
Jack Krauser is in Darkside Chronicles, so that's a big plus. Krauser in these games is like going to a friend's house where all they have is cabbage soup and a spectacular dessert. The desert was great, but it wasn't really worth dealing with the smell and flavor of the cabbage soup. Krauser is that desert.
These games could give you a good degree of nostalgia if you love Resident Evil, or if you loved these games when they came out. But they just move too slowly for me. They might convey the frantic action tone they were going for if I had french fries seasoned with Carolina Reaper dust right before playing them.
I've always pretty much hated these games, because back in the day Capcom, the folks who made these games hinted that they might make a Wii exclusive game that would play like Resident Evil 4. Re4 is my favorite game of all time and was back then too. So I had my hopes way up high for that game and then they gave us two average light gun games instead. I'm still salty about it and that will probably never change.
The thing I love about a light gun game is being able to shoot a lot of targets in a short amount of time with a good degree of intensity. The zombies do not die quick enough. Sure you can kill them in one shot with a head shot sometimes, but not all of the time. I want it to work every time so I can go racing through your levels. I think the action in these games would excite only my aforementioned history teacher who probably works as a security guard on the weekend. I'm saying that because he was fat and boring. That's pretty much it. That also summarizes what I think of security guards.
You can enjoy anything that you do with a friend. That's about it for these games. You could probably have a good time trying to build your own coffee machine with a friend. You might even enjoy building your own meth lab with a friend, but that doesn't mean that you should do either or play these games.
Jack Krauser is in Darkside Chronicles, so that's a big plus. Krauser in these games is like going to a friend's house where all they have is cabbage soup and a spectacular dessert. The desert was great, but it wasn't really worth dealing with the smell and flavor of the cabbage soup. Krauser is that desert.
These games could give you a good degree of nostalgia if you love Resident Evil, or if you loved these games when they came out. But they just move too slowly for me. They might convey the frantic action tone they were going for if I had french fries seasoned with Carolina Reaper dust right before playing them.
I've always pretty much hated these games, because back in the day Capcom, the folks who made these games hinted that they might make a Wii exclusive game that would play like Resident Evil 4. Re4 is my favorite game of all time and was back then too. So I had my hopes way up high for that game and then they gave us two average light gun games instead. I'm still salty about it and that will probably never change.
Shot Glass Thought: My Cooked and Flipped Mushrooms
Flipping mushrooms in a hot pan over the stove is one of my favorite things to do. I can't actually cook much of anything, but I can add olive oil, salt and pepper and a bunch of mushrooms together. A chef that I worked with in the past taught me how to flip the contents of the pan without spilling them everywhere. So yeah, sometimes my lunch is just cooked mushrooms with salt, pepper and olive oil. I guess where I am in culinary skills is the same place that all great cooks start at. They surpassed my level in a couple hours of work, and I've been at this level for about 3 years. They cook thousands of meals without ever making anyone sick, I make myself sick once per month. But I don't make myself sick all that often anymore, because I have limited myself to making salads and cooked/flipped mushrooms. Those two can't cross contaminate no matter what. Unless you have introduced raw meat to the equation at some point, but I won't be doing that. I once made myself sick by eating mushrooms that had gone bad. I threw out the icky ones and kept the "good ones". Well the good ones were bad too and I was super sick because of it. So now I cook/flip all the mushrooms in three days. That way there is no chance that they go bad on me. I have a hard time rationing them out in even amounts. So usually there is one day that is the great mushroom feast and two other days that are the mushroom side dish. I totally recommend cooked and flipped mushrooms, they are the ones that you get at the green section of the grocery store. I don't know what that looks like where you live, but it's green where I live.
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Shot Glass Thought: Hug Your Pets For Dear Life
I have a 100% click through rate on videos where kittens are introduced to golden retrievers. I don't upload any of that content anywhere, I just always click it when I see it. Golden retrievers are the best and I will befriend another one one day. But isn't introducing fragile kittens to any dog kind of a risk? I have a pretty high click through rate on videos where kittens are introduced to any kind of dog. Probably a 97% click through rate. It's a sub genre of cuteness that I'm really into. You could say that I'm an expert on it at this point. Obviously the videos I like wouldn't be on Youtube if the dog flew into a rage and rended the kitties limb from limb. That would be something on the Dark Web I imagine. I've never been on there so I don't know what the articles and videos are titled like. Would you call that "Man's Best Friend Solves Kitten Infestation"? Some sick fuck out there knows the answer. But that's the world we live in, we just gotta hug our dogs and kitties even harder than before and pretty much hang on for dear life. Hopefully the monster that is out there feeding kittens to fight dogs isn't your neighbor or your most recent Tinder match.
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Shot Glass Thought: Stretching My Hands
I've really taken to stretching my hands. I enjoy doing it because it helps me to comfortably produce lot's of content and it feels good. You would think at first glance that bending your fingers backwards towards your chest would not feel good, but it's the kind of thing that you warm up to. It's just one of those simple human experiences that kind of complement your existence. It will be like in the future when my hands get melted off in a space ship incident, I'll be able to have robotic hands put on. I'll be able to say "well at least I don't have to stretch them anymore." The robotically enhanced hands will help me but they won't make what it is to be human any different. I'll probably be able to enjoy Niagara Falls the same amount, robotic hands or nah. But yeah, stretching them and having them sore from time to time doesn't make me want to melt them off my any means. At some point I'll be doing stand up and I don't want to be the guy with a headset and two nubs. Always making awkward sex jokes. Although I'll definitely be making awkward sex jokes, just not the kind where I'm putting one of my nubs up some broad's cunt.
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Comedy Story: You Can Leave My Life
I am not ever going to change who I am at my core. The restaurant menu at the core of my soul has no room for modifications, alterations or the mixing of unrelated menu items into one chef's nightmare. My menu cannot be changed for women, friends or loud mouthed Baptist preachers. They can all believe that I'm going to Hell, what they believe doesn't matter. How you are perceived doesn't matter when it comes right down to brass tax. I know what I've done and who I really am, that's all that matters. When I tell you that I want to marry the real life equivalent of the character Ada Wong from the Resident Evil series, you know that I'm a crazy person. But I am a crazy person that I can live with.
I am a repellent for liars and fakes that can't tolerate knowing what they are. If you want someone who will cater to you and your fragile ego then I'm just not the guy. I tell the truth about myself, I'm not going to then turn right around and buy the bullshit that you spout about yourself. Being friends with me when you are like that is like having an insatiable appetite for McDonald's breakfast while also having positively no tolerance for stomach pain. It's just not going to work.
I am really very much alone in my walk through life. Alone when being with someone means being able to tolerate bullshit. I've already had experiences with the best people out there. I remember what it was like when I didn't have to listen to drunken blabbering at 2am from some alcoholic broad that thinks she takes care of an old woman that doesn't need her. How do I know that one doesn't need the other? Well the old lady kicked the young lady out for six months. If you take care of someone, but they don't need you for six months, then you don't take care of them. I took care of my grandmother for 3 years and if I would have left her for 6 months, at any time, she would have been dead when I got back. That's just how dementia works. You can't lie to me and if you do, and then I find out about it, then you won't lie to me again. I've already known the best people, and they don't do that shit.
I do have an understanding of what makes people tick and I know what makes me tick. If you can't tolerate someone who operates with that information and is willing to say it all out loud, then I am not for you. Being with me is like adding a full bottle of angostura bitters to a caramel macchiato. If you don't know what angostura bitters taste like, well they are bitters. So they taste a bit bitter and that is what I am. If you're a caramel macchiato then you don't want bitter in you, period.
Yes I hurt feelings all the time, I have been called evil, I've been slapped, punched, knocked out, spit on, attacked with knives and shot at. I am hated by some people. But I don't care. I can live with myself and that's all that matters. I am a guy who can start out on a mission to make myself a delicious Belgian waffle and end up googling how to treat 3rd degree burns from mishandling my coffee machine. My clumsiness has nothing to do with what I've been talking about here, but my hand still really fucking hurts.
I will never change, when I'm shot or stabbed to death or whatever it is, I won't go into that last good night ashamed or embarrassed by the way that I've lived, because I was honest. It would be far more likely that I would drink myself to death on accident. That last line makes me hope that my mother doesn't read this material. All that I have done, I have done it my way. If tomorrow I was convinced that apple butter makes the best hair gel, I'd probably not live and die by that one small aspect of life. But I would need some serious proof to refute my belief about apple butter as hair gel. I would also need someone to test the new theory for me as I am bald. The point of all this rambling was to make someone out there laugh. But also to remind any of those that thought that a few mean texts or a slap or punch or whatever you thought would end me, will not end me. You can leave, I don't care. People want to be around me, there will never not be more of those people.
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I am a repellent for liars and fakes that can't tolerate knowing what they are. If you want someone who will cater to you and your fragile ego then I'm just not the guy. I tell the truth about myself, I'm not going to then turn right around and buy the bullshit that you spout about yourself. Being friends with me when you are like that is like having an insatiable appetite for McDonald's breakfast while also having positively no tolerance for stomach pain. It's just not going to work.
I am really very much alone in my walk through life. Alone when being with someone means being able to tolerate bullshit. I've already had experiences with the best people out there. I remember what it was like when I didn't have to listen to drunken blabbering at 2am from some alcoholic broad that thinks she takes care of an old woman that doesn't need her. How do I know that one doesn't need the other? Well the old lady kicked the young lady out for six months. If you take care of someone, but they don't need you for six months, then you don't take care of them. I took care of my grandmother for 3 years and if I would have left her for 6 months, at any time, she would have been dead when I got back. That's just how dementia works. You can't lie to me and if you do, and then I find out about it, then you won't lie to me again. I've already known the best people, and they don't do that shit.
I do have an understanding of what makes people tick and I know what makes me tick. If you can't tolerate someone who operates with that information and is willing to say it all out loud, then I am not for you. Being with me is like adding a full bottle of angostura bitters to a caramel macchiato. If you don't know what angostura bitters taste like, well they are bitters. So they taste a bit bitter and that is what I am. If you're a caramel macchiato then you don't want bitter in you, period.
Yes I hurt feelings all the time, I have been called evil, I've been slapped, punched, knocked out, spit on, attacked with knives and shot at. I am hated by some people. But I don't care. I can live with myself and that's all that matters. I am a guy who can start out on a mission to make myself a delicious Belgian waffle and end up googling how to treat 3rd degree burns from mishandling my coffee machine. My clumsiness has nothing to do with what I've been talking about here, but my hand still really fucking hurts.
I will never change, when I'm shot or stabbed to death or whatever it is, I won't go into that last good night ashamed or embarrassed by the way that I've lived, because I was honest. It would be far more likely that I would drink myself to death on accident. That last line makes me hope that my mother doesn't read this material. All that I have done, I have done it my way. If tomorrow I was convinced that apple butter makes the best hair gel, I'd probably not live and die by that one small aspect of life. But I would need some serious proof to refute my belief about apple butter as hair gel. I would also need someone to test the new theory for me as I am bald. The point of all this rambling was to make someone out there laugh. But also to remind any of those that thought that a few mean texts or a slap or punch or whatever you thought would end me, will not end me. You can leave, I don't care. People want to be around me, there will never not be more of those people.
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Shot Glass thought: Making Time for Sublime
The way world is, we never have enough time for much of anything. When you have to constantly bang your head against the never yielding brick wall of disappointment which is life, you learn to manage your spare time accordingly. Life can't be changed, time cannot be infinite, we just have to live as we do and find a way to tolerate it. But he most beautiful thing that I need to make time for is heroin. Just kidding, I need to spend more time lying on my bed with my headphones on, just listening to Nessum Dorma radio on Pandora. That music is so beautiful and transcendent of what I usually take music to be, that it sometimes makes me cry. Imagine telling yourself that you need to take a break for a few minutes. You put the headphones on and start the music and in a few minutes you're nearly weeping from the beauty of the sounds. It's an odd experience. It reminds of once when I saw a girl speak at some kind of high school function. I wasn't in high school, I was there supporting someone else. The girl got up and it became apparent right away that her being allowed to speak was done for the irony of it. A lot of people were chuckling and murmuring to themselves about how bad she was. I had to get up and leave because it was destroying me on the inside. The opposite experience of that is lying on my bed listening to Andrea Bocelli. It is so right, so perfect and beautiful that it is overwhelming. I hope that bitch eventually got the help she needed in a speech therapy class or she made one friend that would tell her the truth. Either way, I should take more breaks to make time for the sublime.
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Shot Glass Thought: Get to Know Yourself
Sometimes the best way to deal with stress is to do something that you thought you didn't need anymore. I do not mean opiates. I mean that I was never that great at basketball at all, but sometimes I still need to just go bounce a ball and swish a few shots in order to get my mind right. Sometimes it takes a while to swish all the shots needed in order to right the mind. But it's worth that bit of time. In a sense, when I revisit basketball I get to feel that childhood fascination and hope for what the future could hold. I thought I would be in the NBA if I just worked hard enough. Nobody but life could effectively make clear to me how unlikely that was going to be. I don't have the genetics, the skills or the want to to make that sort of thing happen. Instead of telling kids that they can do anything that they can dream of, which is total bullshit. We should teach them how important it is to get to know yourself. For example, I was not getting enough sleep when I was about 19 but I kept on working really hard on several different things I had going in my life at that time. A member of my family said that I shouldn't worry about the lack of sleep and that I should work even harder. So I did, and I almost completely lost my mind. I went to go shoot some hoops at the local gym and I saw a young Michael Jordan warming up in the gym. MJ was young before I was born. I also had fictional characters from my childhood following me around. So the point of this shot glass is get to know yourself because you might be related to fucking idiot.
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Shot Glass Thought: Commitment is Not My Problem
Some people like to go on long walks or worse still, hike. I like, prefer and insist on short walks. That has a lot to do with the ever deteriorating ligament damage in my ankles, but also it has to do with time. Long walks are like almost everything in life, a commitment that I am not willing to make. I won't be inspired to be romantic with a date just because we spent 2 and a half hours sweating in the woods together. That would be like if I developed an all encompassing obsession with engineering after tying my shoes and realizing that Back to Future told us the shoes would tie themselves by now. Maybe it's not exactly the same but it would still be a huge commitment that I would not want to make either way. I've had plenty of female teachers and male for that matter, tell me that if I committed to my work I would be just so much better off now. A lot of those teachers were art teachers. If commitment is all it takes, then how come there has never been a female Michealangelo? Where is the female Da'Vinci? There hasn't even been a female Basquiat. So if you take history seriously, you might think that the commitment issues aren't on the male side of things after all.
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Short Funny Story: The Barman Doesn't Leave You in The Dark
I like the look of my own face. It's a good face honestly. It looks best when it's smiling and tending bar/serving does put a smile on my face. Where else can you make bank by helping people have a great time? I don't care if both my knees blow out and they have to wheel me around behind the bar, if I never make it in comedy, I'll just keep tending bar!
But back to my face. I have a big nose and "piercing eyes". They have also been called psychotic eyes but those were the words of some psychotic bitches that I have since left behind. (No I haven't been reading your emails, I asked you to please TURN OFF ALL CAPS) Many people feel a bit put off or excited by my gaze and why not? I'm a total stud. I'm the bartender dude, the lifelong mission of every cool guy is to be the cool guy that hands out alcohol. By the standards of many a cool guy, I'm already as cool as I could possible be. Thanks to the modern marvels of depression meds, I'm also a happy cool guy too. But being behind the bar and on pills doesn't mean that I've forgotten about the abyss, it just means I moved it to my spam folder even though I know that it contains a perfectly valid bill that I don't intend to pay right now but certainly will have to later.
My coolness and face aside, I could never work another kind of job job after having handed out the alcohol. Sometimes the handing out of the booze is very stressful, especially so when there are a great many people and you have to do it very fast. But I can't ever see myself trading in the cocktail shakers for a company hat and retirement plan as the guy who cuts off the electricity when you don't pay your bill on time. I would try to apply the same friendly warm charm that I use to welcome bar patrons on people that would not ever want anything to do with me. I mean, I could get yelled at. Not a big deal for most, but I have my feelings and my ego to think about. I need to feel like I do a cool thing for cool people and being around me makes them happy. Putting people in the dark and cold would not accomplish that feeling.
How did I end up like this? You mean, perfect? Well I can't explain all that but drinking until you blackout for three years and then one day waking up to the worst alcohol induced anxiety imaginable has a way of molding you. Yes I hid in the bathroom from my roommates and was convinced that they might be planning to kill me, but what if they were? I would have been safe long enough to call the cops and be rescued. The preservation of my life is a boon to all. Plus, you don't know these guys like I do. You ever felt nervous like somebody might be watching you fap through your webcam? Well your instincts were right, because my roommates were the ones watching you. They are totally "not into that stuff dude" they just like to be were they shouldn't be. Like a ghost that haunts a house that he didn't die in. It's fucking weird. They might have been ghosts.
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But back to my face. I have a big nose and "piercing eyes". They have also been called psychotic eyes but those were the words of some psychotic bitches that I have since left behind. (No I haven't been reading your emails, I asked you to please TURN OFF ALL CAPS) Many people feel a bit put off or excited by my gaze and why not? I'm a total stud. I'm the bartender dude, the lifelong mission of every cool guy is to be the cool guy that hands out alcohol. By the standards of many a cool guy, I'm already as cool as I could possible be. Thanks to the modern marvels of depression meds, I'm also a happy cool guy too. But being behind the bar and on pills doesn't mean that I've forgotten about the abyss, it just means I moved it to my spam folder even though I know that it contains a perfectly valid bill that I don't intend to pay right now but certainly will have to later.
My coolness and face aside, I could never work another kind of job job after having handed out the alcohol. Sometimes the handing out of the booze is very stressful, especially so when there are a great many people and you have to do it very fast. But I can't ever see myself trading in the cocktail shakers for a company hat and retirement plan as the guy who cuts off the electricity when you don't pay your bill on time. I would try to apply the same friendly warm charm that I use to welcome bar patrons on people that would not ever want anything to do with me. I mean, I could get yelled at. Not a big deal for most, but I have my feelings and my ego to think about. I need to feel like I do a cool thing for cool people and being around me makes them happy. Putting people in the dark and cold would not accomplish that feeling.
How did I end up like this? You mean, perfect? Well I can't explain all that but drinking until you blackout for three years and then one day waking up to the worst alcohol induced anxiety imaginable has a way of molding you. Yes I hid in the bathroom from my roommates and was convinced that they might be planning to kill me, but what if they were? I would have been safe long enough to call the cops and be rescued. The preservation of my life is a boon to all. Plus, you don't know these guys like I do. You ever felt nervous like somebody might be watching you fap through your webcam? Well your instincts were right, because my roommates were the ones watching you. They are totally "not into that stuff dude" they just like to be were they shouldn't be. Like a ghost that haunts a house that he didn't die in. It's fucking weird. They might have been ghosts.
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Shot Glass Thought: Factory Worker Career Change to Massage Therapist
I want to meet people that have interesting career changes like factory worker for general motors to massage therapist. The thought processes of people who are able to change from one extreme to another and display adequate competency in either would be fascinating interviews. Or maybe they would bore me to death because I am expecting there to be a "Take this steering column and shove it, I'm gonna rub shoulders from now on." Maybe it went like "I always loved cars until I realized I could make the same living by smearing cream on naked women. That seemed like a pretty good deal." Let's say that it's a woman that wants to change from massage therapist to Ford motor maker. She'd say something like "Well smearing cream on wrinkly old men was okay for a while, but I got a bit tired of all the solicitation for sexual favors."
I've never had a massage and I'm not sure that I ever will. I wouldn't mind giving massages, but I don't want any part of me massaged unless it's my wang. No pda, if you're touching me then it should be leading up to something. If I'm touching you, it could be whatever I don't really care. Not like I'm going to develop feelings for you anyway. "Why are you such an asshole?" I don't really know...but you can leave now. "I could have left at any time, but I stayed because I care for you. Don't you see that??" Barf, barf, etc. It's been a few minutes now and I'm realizing that I'm definitely off topic. This could be cue to get back on topic but I think I'll just dip out here and have some depression ice cream. I prefer Oreo or orange creamcicle tubs to help divert me from the ever encroaching abyss.
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I've never had a massage and I'm not sure that I ever will. I wouldn't mind giving massages, but I don't want any part of me massaged unless it's my wang. No pda, if you're touching me then it should be leading up to something. If I'm touching you, it could be whatever I don't really care. Not like I'm going to develop feelings for you anyway. "Why are you such an asshole?" I don't really know...but you can leave now. "I could have left at any time, but I stayed because I care for you. Don't you see that??" Barf, barf, etc. It's been a few minutes now and I'm realizing that I'm definitely off topic. This could be cue to get back on topic but I think I'll just dip out here and have some depression ice cream. I prefer Oreo or orange creamcicle tubs to help divert me from the ever encroaching abyss.
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Shot Glass Thought: Pothead Warlords and Prostitutes
So we often hear that if you are smoking pot at a young age then you will likely take to more extreme and destructive behaviors later on. By that logic, I wonder if there has ever been a pothead that just smoked dope for a few years, did nothing with his life and then just became an international arms dealer out of nowhere. Because that would meet my definitions for extreme and destructive behavior. Have any potheads ever just weaseled their way into public office and started destroying almost everything they touch? Demonstrating a need and desire to serve only their needs and desires? I wonder how many potheads have been mass shooters? How many pothead serial killers are there out there? I can't say because I don't know, but there sure are a fuck ton of potheads in prison. I've never had a guy stagger out of his apartment at 2am to scream at me before he started puking from being too high. I left him in his puke, by the way. I hope you're not disappointed if you took me for the good Samaritan. I didn't flick him off either. I did try to think of a witty one liner for his situation but all I said was "ah well, yes now you are puking." When something that doesn't make sense happens I find it best to begin narration. I do know some basic whores that will have sex with someone for weed. But I think that's from being lazy, no morals having, entitled brats. But that's probably just my privilege speaking. I'm sure that I don't understand their situation or circumstances because I'm not a woman. But I would understand that after a couple years of that behavior they would likely have some kind of herpes.
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Book Review: A Layman's Guide to Psychiatry and Psychoanalysis (1957)
I started this book the way that I start all books, by opening to a random page and letting intuition decide where on that page I begin reading. The first passage I read was about eating and having energy, so the book loses points for that. The title of this book told me that I would learn how to read minds if I picked it up. I don't need to know about energy, unless you're telling me that I can develop psychic energy to make things levitate or something like that. I want knowledge of actual super powers not actual facts. Which one would you rather be, superhero or super nerd? Yea me too, although I'm pretty much already super nerd.
Next passage I picked at random had to do with the Id and the Ego. Neither of which do I know about in Freud's terms, but I do know that satisfying my ego is the only reason why I rise from the bed each morning. It's also the reason why I do anything at all. My ego is my own siren call. Every time that I've been had it was because I convinced myself that obviously really awesome, pretty much implausibly good stuff happens and should happen to me. Like how when I get started discussing quirks with the hottest girl in the bar. I soon find out that she believes that her all encompassing obsession with demonology is a quirk. It's not a quirk, it's just scary and talking about it with you makes my balls shrink to the size of raisins.
The book is dated, obviously if you saw the date in the title, then you already knew that. But it is fun to look back on what was once taken for expertise. I wouldn't know what parts are dated or not, because I'm a comic not a fucking doctor. But for my part I love to read and I love the smell of old books. So this one is probably getting a recommendation from me either way. It was also really cheap, which won't sell you on the idea of finding another exact copy of this book, but it might sell you on your local used book store. These places are great and are the lowest cost, highest value entertainment that you can find. Where else can you pick up books about T-Rex, Nietzsche's Superman and DC's Superman all for less than it costs to eat one meal at Wendy's?
One section talks about how we are born with an urge to kill and how it's somehow linked to wanting to have sex. I'm not too sure about that one. After before and during sex, my mind never strays to killing. That would probably scare me. I'd definitely go talk to someone professional if while pounding away on some box it occurred to me "I've got a really sharp chef knife like 3 feet from this bed." My apartment is a studio, technically the knife is always within reaching distance. I just imagined my naked self running around my small apartment with a chef knife and yakety sax was playing in my head. That's this song is you don't recognize it by the name: https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=39&v=Zcq_xLi2NGo
I felt very absorbed and in the moment while reading this book. I skipped around like I said, but it was a lot of fun. It made me wonder what the lives were like of those who had held and made use of this book over the years. It was very interesting and I think everyone should enjoy an old book like this sometime. A book that is as old as this is worth more to me that going to see a new movie in theaters. To me it's like the difference in watching your friend throw down a windmill dunk and actually owning a working windmill. I don't know what windmill's are used for, crushing grain I think? But if I could have one, I'd definitely have one. Because it's awesome, it's old and it might make people think that I'm more of an artisan than I could ever actually be. A local journalist could totally expose me for not knowing jack about crushing grain.
The section on what a drug addict is was a bit eye opening. The experiences of the drug addict described in the book are the same as what you'll find today, tremendous suffering. The book said that drug addicts become addicts of the mind. I'm not sure if that means that they thought morphine addiction was only in your head or what. But it's definitely not just in your head. That part read the way most addiction writing reads today, as though a lot more research needs to be done.
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Next passage I picked at random had to do with the Id and the Ego. Neither of which do I know about in Freud's terms, but I do know that satisfying my ego is the only reason why I rise from the bed each morning. It's also the reason why I do anything at all. My ego is my own siren call. Every time that I've been had it was because I convinced myself that obviously really awesome, pretty much implausibly good stuff happens and should happen to me. Like how when I get started discussing quirks with the hottest girl in the bar. I soon find out that she believes that her all encompassing obsession with demonology is a quirk. It's not a quirk, it's just scary and talking about it with you makes my balls shrink to the size of raisins.
The book is dated, obviously if you saw the date in the title, then you already knew that. But it is fun to look back on what was once taken for expertise. I wouldn't know what parts are dated or not, because I'm a comic not a fucking doctor. But for my part I love to read and I love the smell of old books. So this one is probably getting a recommendation from me either way. It was also really cheap, which won't sell you on the idea of finding another exact copy of this book, but it might sell you on your local used book store. These places are great and are the lowest cost, highest value entertainment that you can find. Where else can you pick up books about T-Rex, Nietzsche's Superman and DC's Superman all for less than it costs to eat one meal at Wendy's?
One section talks about how we are born with an urge to kill and how it's somehow linked to wanting to have sex. I'm not too sure about that one. After before and during sex, my mind never strays to killing. That would probably scare me. I'd definitely go talk to someone professional if while pounding away on some box it occurred to me "I've got a really sharp chef knife like 3 feet from this bed." My apartment is a studio, technically the knife is always within reaching distance. I just imagined my naked self running around my small apartment with a chef knife and yakety sax was playing in my head. That's this song is you don't recognize it by the name: https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=39&v=Zcq_xLi2NGo
I felt very absorbed and in the moment while reading this book. I skipped around like I said, but it was a lot of fun. It made me wonder what the lives were like of those who had held and made use of this book over the years. It was very interesting and I think everyone should enjoy an old book like this sometime. A book that is as old as this is worth more to me that going to see a new movie in theaters. To me it's like the difference in watching your friend throw down a windmill dunk and actually owning a working windmill. I don't know what windmill's are used for, crushing grain I think? But if I could have one, I'd definitely have one. Because it's awesome, it's old and it might make people think that I'm more of an artisan than I could ever actually be. A local journalist could totally expose me for not knowing jack about crushing grain.
The section on what a drug addict is was a bit eye opening. The experiences of the drug addict described in the book are the same as what you'll find today, tremendous suffering. The book said that drug addicts become addicts of the mind. I'm not sure if that means that they thought morphine addiction was only in your head or what. But it's definitely not just in your head. That part read the way most addiction writing reads today, as though a lot more research needs to be done.
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Shot Glass Thought: Where We Need to Look For Back Pain
I think if I were going to study and correct the effects of back pain, I would be researching and testing on the members of the professional wrestling community. I don't think they would mind giving consent for testing as they seem to already have a "Who gives a fuck dude?? Woohoo!!" kind of attitude. I don't care how fake people say it is, I can see with my own two eyes that gigantic men are lifting other gigantic men and gigantic objects at times. My back hurt when I did landscaping and that was mostly just lifting a weed eater. Not a gigantic one either. Like a bush hog attached to a winy little engine and a stick to hang onto. My back was hurting pretty bad when I was doing construction work and the stuff that we were lifting around wasn't too all heavy. My fingers hurt pretty bad from clanging them with the hammer because I missed the nail every other swing. None of what we lifted was the size of another human being. I don't want to tell doctors and back pain researchers how to do their jobs, but I'm pretty fucking great at having ideas, so just think about it I guess.
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Comedy Story: I Am the Guy Who Sings at Work
I am that jackass who loves the sound of his own voice so much that he sings at work and no I am not sorry. I think that I got so good at it because I once signed up for singing lessons but when I went to the venue all they had me do was chant spells. They said it was a warm up exercise but a group of priests barged in and started throwing holy water everywhere so I dipped out.
First of all, everyone knows that they want to hear me sing. I sing like Michael Phelps swims. My vibrato is as epic as Tiger Wood's putting and infidelity records. His infidelity is way more interesting and inspiring to me than any of his other accomplishments. I mean anyone can gold, but what is life like when your batting average is apparently 100%? I mean it must be pretty good.
Everyone loves beautiful music, and that is what effortlessly springs forward from my soul. If I were a chick singing the way that I do at work, then there would be some creep in the kitchen who would memorize every possible route in town to my apartment after having one conversation. A conversation where he would mostly be looking at my tits. Because if I were a chick I'd be a bad bitch dude.
Work can sometimes have terrible music playing, I can cure that by singing louder than what is playing. I'm always having to raise my voice in order to talk over the voices in my head, so why not extend that ability to my work companions?
My voice brings me closer to all the people that I work with, and everyone wants to be around me, so it's for the best that I sing. Without me, morale could dip dangerously low. When you hear me sing it's like that moment when you finally find the Facebook profile of the girl you bumped into while getting coffee. You spent the next 4 hours refreshing her page every 10 seconds and you don't regret a second of it because she's that amazing. That's my voice in a nutshell.
Tell you truth, I would stop singing at work if someone asked me to, but they never have and likely never will. Because it's fucking flawless and everybody except haters and the deaf can hear that.
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Shot Glass Thought: Honey Mustard and Your Wife
So chicken nuggets, tenders and even a whole leg or breast can be dipped in honey mustard. Honey mustard is delicious and this fact cannot be refuted. But chicken biscuits, those crackers that come in a blue box with chickens on it are not honey mustard material. Yes my favorite snacks are all stuff that your grandparents ate. I also eat those Laura Lynn Orange Slices that don't really have a taste beyond hint of orange and squishy sugar chunk. It's deceptive because you'd think if all these other chicken products work well with honey mustard, then surely chicken crackers will too. But honey mustard is your girl after she becomes your wife, thicc. Some brands of honey mustard are thicc like your wife after she becomes a mother, fat. Only differences are that you can steal eat fat honey mustard and it's still sweet. Neither can be said about your wife.
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Video Game Review: My Love will go on for Red Steel Wii (2006)
This is first person shooting and sword fighting game. That's enough of a sell for me right out of the gate. I played this game when it came out way back in ye good olden year of 2006. I only recently beat it because I like to put things off in a major way. Actually, I didn't beat it all those years ago because I thought that it was terrible and I didn't want to play it anymore. Now, in 2019 and in 2020 I've revisited the game twice and I can honestly say, I love it.
This is by no means a perfect game. Your aiming dot will sometimes just fly out of control no matter how steady your hands are. By sometimes, I mean there is a constant flickering and jankiness to the aiming. The flickering and jankiness can be compounded by the dot flying totally out of control. You can expect this to happen a few times when you're activating the slow motion shooting power. This is because you have to hold down the A button and then lurch the controller forward like you're trying to stab a ghost.
My hands shake like I need a drink, because I need a drink. Though I wouldn't recommend drinking while you play this game, you could get really frustrated and break something valuable in your place. Controllers learn to fly much easier when there is some alcohol fueled rage in the room with you. Yes I might be disassociating from the booze rage I get after 7 consecutive deaths to a highly pixelated samurai lady. I'm not gonna tell you directly of my booze rage situation, but it may have happened over at my friend's apartment who happened to be revisiting this game around the same time.
Sometimes the sword fighting controls will feel perfect and sometimes they will ignore you the way most women ignore me after our first conversation. Something about sending a lady 8 straight one-liners about my penis that sends them running in the opposite direction. I thought people loved hearing about my penis? Anyway, the sword mechanics in the game. Sometimes you can sneak up on an enemy and whip the nunchuck at them for a stealth sword kill. The kill part of the equation work pretty reliably but the stealth part doesn't. As your character winds up for the kill, the bad guy usually turns around and shoots you at least once. That kind of blows, but it doesn't ruin the experience.
The 1v1 sword battles are just plain rad. I know a lot of people hate them because they make no logical sense. Scott, the main character is a gun expert. Why on Earth would he swap to a sword and battle it out with some fools instead of gunning them down on the spot? Because this is a video game! Scott knows that we need these sword battles whether we want them to make sense or not. So he delivers.
The sword combo moves can be somewhat difficult to pull off at first, but I found them to work consistently after a good bit of practice. Regular sword fighting enemies are usually fast or heavy hitters. You have to dodge and counter the heavy hitters and you have to parry the fast hitters. Sometimes they will swap styles in the middle of the fight. Even so, once you get the hang of it, they are not that hard to handle.
The sword fighting boss fights are tense and challenging. Specifically the one with the babe that you see sitting on Scott's lap in the loading screen. She swaps styles and you have to lower her aggression meter or something like that, I don't know I wasn't really paying attention to that part. You parry, dodge and unleash combos to win, just like every other game. This tough babe is in the geisha mission and fighting her is probably one of the highlights of the game. So if you play the game, look forward to that mission.
So, like I said, the asian sword hotty is on Scott's lap in every load screen. Does that loading screen imply that we boned her off camera and cheated on our fiance that we are trying to rescue? If that's the case then why was that scene cut from the game? As a total creep, I would have loved to have observed a bit of pixelated junk bumping. Plus the lady is Asian and I think we all know that they have blurry genitals anyway, so, no need for censorship. Real missed opportunity there.
When I first saw that loading screen I thought it meant that we would befriend her and then turn over a few buddy cop missions. Maybe they had something like this in the game but had to cut it later on. It would have been so cool to get to work alongside her to stealthfully take out unsuspecting enemies like a couple of ninja lovers. Then at the end of the game you have to decide if you want to make your lifu about your sword waifu or go back to plane Jane damsel in distress. I'm 100% in the marry plane Jane and then cheat on her with sword waifu third category.
The final sword boss fight sets up a twist ending that you could probably see coming. But it's still fun anyway. I'm not sure that it really counts as a twist ending, but it does go against your expectations, so it's pretty good in that way. Like I've said before, you don't make your way through this murky, pixelated shoot and slash fest for the riveting story and deep symbolism. You don't even play this game to learn more about a culture. Well, maybe they had some kind of consultant for that stuff but I really doubt it. Most of the time the voice acting sounds like an offensive impersonation of an Asian person. That's not a dig against the voice actors if they really do sound like that, but it does at times make me laugh just listening to the dialogue.
The technology of the Wii was brand spanking new when this game was made. So it is pretty janky control wise. The graphics are pretty bad and the story is pretty dumb. But you shouldn't come into a game like this expecting cinematic brilliance and cutting edge realism. You should be in the mood to make the bad guys go boom-boom and to whip the controller around your apartment in a virtual sword fight. I got way too into one fight and slightly strained my left bicep. I told everyone at work that I did it at the gym but I think they can tell that I don't go to the gym.
The fight where I strained my left bicep was during a parrying mission against a guy that you are lead to believe is your friend. His fight is in place to make you master parrying. I didn't really understand the levels of parrying in the game at the time and so the constant whipping of the nunchuk during the fight caused me my minor injury. After something like 21 straight half parries I was able to figure out that I needed to wait a little longer to swing the nunchuk and to make the movement shorter. This allows for the full disarming parry and that's how you beat the bastard.
I was happy for most of the experience with this game. The shooting felt really good. The slow down time power was pretty rad and the game as a whole has this silliness but sometimes seriousness to it. It's really an interesting flavor. It's not always ironically funny either, some of it is intentional. The highlight of the game is probably this comical but also horrifying rabbit level. At first it plays like it's comedy, but then you have a pitch black fight scene with a bunch of ninjas or something like that. I got kind of spooked to be honest. There is no shortage of demented rabbit heads in the level. It's weird man. It's like the people who made it wanted a way to communicate that they are in fact Japanese and therefore the champions of being weird.
There are two scenes in the rabbit level that gave me jump scares to be more specific. One of them is the moment directly after the lights are turned out on you. There are two flying white orbs in the room. Turns out, those are the masks of two guys who will shoot you when you get close enough. Pretty damn spooky yo. The second time is when you walk down a corridor and see a green dinosaur looking mannequin. You can walk right past it and get a shotgun blast to the back. The green dinosaur mannequin is a man! For a rated T 2006 Wii game, these two moments got me pretty good.
When the sword fighting is responsive, which is about 75% of the time, the game feels awesome. When the shooting feels responsive, which is about 90% of the time then you feel like a total badass. The uzi is fun to blaze away with, the pistols are all great. The semi auto shotgun and the Scar assault rifle are just a great time. Both guns make you feel really powerful. The game is fun if a bit dated and janky. I give it my full recommendation. You might want to take a pass if you are easily frustrated though. In those moments where you are swinging away as if you're a madman trying to kill a house fly that isn't there, the game can get pretty frustrating.
This is by no means a perfect game. Your aiming dot will sometimes just fly out of control no matter how steady your hands are. By sometimes, I mean there is a constant flickering and jankiness to the aiming. The flickering and jankiness can be compounded by the dot flying totally out of control. You can expect this to happen a few times when you're activating the slow motion shooting power. This is because you have to hold down the A button and then lurch the controller forward like you're trying to stab a ghost.
My hands shake like I need a drink, because I need a drink. Though I wouldn't recommend drinking while you play this game, you could get really frustrated and break something valuable in your place. Controllers learn to fly much easier when there is some alcohol fueled rage in the room with you. Yes I might be disassociating from the booze rage I get after 7 consecutive deaths to a highly pixelated samurai lady. I'm not gonna tell you directly of my booze rage situation, but it may have happened over at my friend's apartment who happened to be revisiting this game around the same time.
Sometimes the sword fighting controls will feel perfect and sometimes they will ignore you the way most women ignore me after our first conversation. Something about sending a lady 8 straight one-liners about my penis that sends them running in the opposite direction. I thought people loved hearing about my penis? Anyway, the sword mechanics in the game. Sometimes you can sneak up on an enemy and whip the nunchuck at them for a stealth sword kill. The kill part of the equation work pretty reliably but the stealth part doesn't. As your character winds up for the kill, the bad guy usually turns around and shoots you at least once. That kind of blows, but it doesn't ruin the experience.
The 1v1 sword battles are just plain rad. I know a lot of people hate them because they make no logical sense. Scott, the main character is a gun expert. Why on Earth would he swap to a sword and battle it out with some fools instead of gunning them down on the spot? Because this is a video game! Scott knows that we need these sword battles whether we want them to make sense or not. So he delivers.
The sword combo moves can be somewhat difficult to pull off at first, but I found them to work consistently after a good bit of practice. Regular sword fighting enemies are usually fast or heavy hitters. You have to dodge and counter the heavy hitters and you have to parry the fast hitters. Sometimes they will swap styles in the middle of the fight. Even so, once you get the hang of it, they are not that hard to handle.
The sword fighting boss fights are tense and challenging. Specifically the one with the babe that you see sitting on Scott's lap in the loading screen. She swaps styles and you have to lower her aggression meter or something like that, I don't know I wasn't really paying attention to that part. You parry, dodge and unleash combos to win, just like every other game. This tough babe is in the geisha mission and fighting her is probably one of the highlights of the game. So if you play the game, look forward to that mission.
So, like I said, the asian sword hotty is on Scott's lap in every load screen. Does that loading screen imply that we boned her off camera and cheated on our fiance that we are trying to rescue? If that's the case then why was that scene cut from the game? As a total creep, I would have loved to have observed a bit of pixelated junk bumping. Plus the lady is Asian and I think we all know that they have blurry genitals anyway, so, no need for censorship. Real missed opportunity there.
When I first saw that loading screen I thought it meant that we would befriend her and then turn over a few buddy cop missions. Maybe they had something like this in the game but had to cut it later on. It would have been so cool to get to work alongside her to stealthfully take out unsuspecting enemies like a couple of ninja lovers. Then at the end of the game you have to decide if you want to make your lifu about your sword waifu or go back to plane Jane damsel in distress. I'm 100% in the marry plane Jane and then cheat on her with sword waifu third category.
The final sword boss fight sets up a twist ending that you could probably see coming. But it's still fun anyway. I'm not sure that it really counts as a twist ending, but it does go against your expectations, so it's pretty good in that way. Like I've said before, you don't make your way through this murky, pixelated shoot and slash fest for the riveting story and deep symbolism. You don't even play this game to learn more about a culture. Well, maybe they had some kind of consultant for that stuff but I really doubt it. Most of the time the voice acting sounds like an offensive impersonation of an Asian person. That's not a dig against the voice actors if they really do sound like that, but it does at times make me laugh just listening to the dialogue.
The technology of the Wii was brand spanking new when this game was made. So it is pretty janky control wise. The graphics are pretty bad and the story is pretty dumb. But you shouldn't come into a game like this expecting cinematic brilliance and cutting edge realism. You should be in the mood to make the bad guys go boom-boom and to whip the controller around your apartment in a virtual sword fight. I got way too into one fight and slightly strained my left bicep. I told everyone at work that I did it at the gym but I think they can tell that I don't go to the gym.
The fight where I strained my left bicep was during a parrying mission against a guy that you are lead to believe is your friend. His fight is in place to make you master parrying. I didn't really understand the levels of parrying in the game at the time and so the constant whipping of the nunchuk during the fight caused me my minor injury. After something like 21 straight half parries I was able to figure out that I needed to wait a little longer to swing the nunchuk and to make the movement shorter. This allows for the full disarming parry and that's how you beat the bastard.
I was happy for most of the experience with this game. The shooting felt really good. The slow down time power was pretty rad and the game as a whole has this silliness but sometimes seriousness to it. It's really an interesting flavor. It's not always ironically funny either, some of it is intentional. The highlight of the game is probably this comical but also horrifying rabbit level. At first it plays like it's comedy, but then you have a pitch black fight scene with a bunch of ninjas or something like that. I got kind of spooked to be honest. There is no shortage of demented rabbit heads in the level. It's weird man. It's like the people who made it wanted a way to communicate that they are in fact Japanese and therefore the champions of being weird.
There are two scenes in the rabbit level that gave me jump scares to be more specific. One of them is the moment directly after the lights are turned out on you. There are two flying white orbs in the room. Turns out, those are the masks of two guys who will shoot you when you get close enough. Pretty damn spooky yo. The second time is when you walk down a corridor and see a green dinosaur looking mannequin. You can walk right past it and get a shotgun blast to the back. The green dinosaur mannequin is a man! For a rated T 2006 Wii game, these two moments got me pretty good.
When the sword fighting is responsive, which is about 75% of the time, the game feels awesome. When the shooting feels responsive, which is about 90% of the time then you feel like a total badass. The uzi is fun to blaze away with, the pistols are all great. The semi auto shotgun and the Scar assault rifle are just a great time. Both guns make you feel really powerful. The game is fun if a bit dated and janky. I give it my full recommendation. You might want to take a pass if you are easily frustrated though. In those moments where you are swinging away as if you're a madman trying to kill a house fly that isn't there, the game can get pretty frustrating.
Shot Glass Thought: Computer Hacking Hoodies
So there are apparently two types of computer hackers. One hacks because they are a criminal and the other one hacks in an attempt to make the security of a business or government office more secure. But they kind of both do that anyway right? I still think that the personality types of the two have to at least be somewhat similar. When I think of a hacker I imagine a guy in a hoodie that always sits at a computer in the dark. He collects weird stuff like eye lashes or something. He might be watching me type this through my webcam right now. At any second he could start editing my posts and pasting the word dick every other five words in all my posts. If you're thinking about doing that hacker man then please refrain.
This is a world where everything is in computers, eventually we'll receive emails with food attachments that we can download and actually eat. What could be more powerful in this kind of setting than being able to make a computer that's not yours, tell you everything that you want to know? Hackers are scary man. I should see if I can't meet a few and become really tight friends with them. Send them a new hoodie and some of those glasses that protect your eyes from computer screens for Christmas. If a hacker dies at his/her computer in their hoodie, but they become a ghost, could the hoodie go on hacking without the hacker? A floating hoodie hacker that said "wooooooo" every now and again, sounds like a Scooby Doo premise.
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This is a world where everything is in computers, eventually we'll receive emails with food attachments that we can download and actually eat. What could be more powerful in this kind of setting than being able to make a computer that's not yours, tell you everything that you want to know? Hackers are scary man. I should see if I can't meet a few and become really tight friends with them. Send them a new hoodie and some of those glasses that protect your eyes from computer screens for Christmas. If a hacker dies at his/her computer in their hoodie, but they become a ghost, could the hoodie go on hacking without the hacker? A floating hoodie hacker that said "wooooooo" every now and again, sounds like a Scooby Doo premise.
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Shot Glass Thoughts: I Don't Mind Sharing My Roadkill
You know your up too late and way too alone when you reach 1:34am, softly singing "Can't Help Falling in Love" to yourself. I'm a grown ass man, do I really need to lullaby myself? Apparently. At the very least I should be singing a lullaby to my first born child or something like that at this stage in life. I'm not even drunk either. But I shouldn't be drunk, and thankfully I'm not sad either. I'm numb because I take depression meds. That was a punchline in my book, if it seemed depressing then say it back to yourself in your best Norm Macdonald impression. If you don't know who Norm Macdonald is, well then depression will probably get you. In a flock of seagulls I would be the one buzzard that got lost and was trying to ask directions but the seagulls don't normally talk to buzzards so it was kind of an awkward social interaction. They would prefer that I ask the pelicans, the pelicans are a little more used to dealing with smelly old buzzards, or at least that's what the crows say. I would get my directions but only from a stray dog that really had no clue where I should go, but wanted to be friends. I don't mind sharing my roadkill with a new best friend.
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Shot Glass Thought: Less Human, More Antiness
How different would pulled pork be if they supplemented the protein in it with a pound of crushed up ants? Does anyone out there eat smoked ant on the regular and think it's a delicacy? If we could take the super strength of ants and add it to our own DNA without acquiring any other antiness, that would be pretty dope. I'd go back to working construction and make a fortune without ever breaking a sweat. I'd eat pulled pork everyday and never get fat because having super strength is probably great for your metabolism. Some people would argue that we would be tampering with what it means to be human, but that really doesn't matter when you have super strength. The new age philosophy of the ant human hybrids would be "Fuck your existentialism, there are things to pick up and put down." I'm imagining Arnold Schwarzenegger in a toga outside his mansion which is actually just a giant ant hill. Anyway, back to your regularly scheduled life.
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Shot Glass Thought: My First Bit of Food Science
I think I would want to be a food scientist if they do what I think that they do. I get the impression that they think up things to try with food like, "How can we make tacos out of Milky Way bars?" Then you just try to make tacos out of Milky Way bars. Guess you could mince them up and put them into a taco shell mold and bake them. That might harden them up enough to be able to put some beef down in there. I think if you asked a woman if you could put your beef down in there and then looked at her nether regions you would almost certainly be in some trouble with the law. But you would hold the title of "Most disgusting man in the world." That's nothing to sneeze at man.
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Comedy Story: Most Beautiful Woman
The woman that is the most beautiful woman in the world has eyes that could look right into your soul. Those eyes saw a drunken, mentally ill asshole and didn't put him down any at all. She gave that dickhead a fair chance to know her and learn from her. She must have been told by God to do it, because nobody wants to be close to that guy. Oh for fucks sake, I'm that guy. But if you've read some of my other stuff, you already knew that.
She had a heart that could forgive almost anything, even the evil shitty stuff that I did to her. She made me happier than I've ever been, while I might have made her more miserable than she's ever been. What can I say? My entire family is right after all, I am a fuck up. Dealing with me is like ordering black, regular coffee and having the waiter bring you psychedelic mushroom tea. I am not what is expected and I am not better than what you asked for.
Her smile so warm that it could melt any cold heart, including my callused stupid one. I was full of rage and booze every day, mad at the world for how it had treated me. Even though there are billions of people on the planet in worse shape than me, I was unwilling to think about it like that. I was selfish, and I still am. My favorite subject is me. And now I've lost my train of thought, but I am thinking about me again. Which is the right train to be on anyway. If only it had enough seats for everyone in world.
Eventually I realized how special she was and ended my idiotic behavior. I did everything I could to make her mine, but I failed. But of course I failed. I am not good enough! When the big time comedy bucks come rolling in and I make myself into a big shiny star, I still won't be good enough. My ways, my manners, my personality are all corrupted. She was pure like cold creek water cutting through the mountains of North Carolina. Don't drink that water because it is polluted nowadays, and will give you a fearsome bout of diarrhea. She was as pure as the idea of that water, not the reality of drinking it. I on the other hand, am a pyroclastic flow dripping from the asshole of a skyscraper sized demon.
No woman will ever move me like she did. I had my chance and I didn't make it happen, fair and square. So let's just have some fun and run out the clock on life! Some people never get to meet the love of their life, but I did. She was just as good as I had always hoped for and never deserved. She'll make somebody that is not me happy until eternity. Had she gone with me, she would have been praying every day to go to eternity. I have some time left in my life probably, so I'll just have as much fun as I can while I wait for the end. Fun for me is going to the library, so I don't mean cocaine and hookers when I say fun. But we can do that after the library if there is anyone in the mood for some cocaine and hookers.
I was more than willing to give up everything and just work to make her life as good as possible. But she didn't want that. I have already thanked her for that. I know it would have ruined my life and eventually depression would have overtaken me if I were to give up on comedy and dreams in general. So she really saved my life twice, once for just being able to tolerate me and twice when she turned my big dramatic, stupid ass offer down. I was far less convincing than any ad that you see on TV. McDonald's ads can trick me into going in to their restaurants again with their perfectly arranged burgers. But when you get there you come back to reality. The food is still just messy, salty, tasty slop. I want that to be the way people describe this website too. Yeah, I'm pretty fucking ambitious.
I convinced myself that she was in love with me, that was the only real fault besides all the manipulation and bastardly deeds. I know it's usually dastardly deeds, but I'm an innovator and I act like a total bastard most of the time. I would have been the greatest mistake in her whole life, she is still perfect and my heart is still in a billion pieces. My heart thought that it was metaphorically going out on the town for the first time. If going out on the town is symbolic of being in love forever. And if that's the case, it did go out on the town for the first time, but mostly remembers the night for being it's first panic attack when it got lost and realized it was actually all alone.
The best thing about it is that now I have the freedom to act like a total fool on dates. I always had that freedom, I just didn't realize it. Who cares if they work out? I already blew my shot at the most beautiful woman in the world. I can now say literally anything to any date and it won't mean a thing.
I can do my next 17 to 100 dates acting like Anthony Hopkins' Hannibal Lecter if I so choose. I might call every date that I have from here on out Clarice, regardless of the actual name. She could be ...Doris or something I don't know. No I'm not going out on a date with a grandmother, I just couldn't think of woman names besides Halle Berry. I don't know any other Halle's so I went with Doris, it's whatever. I go on dates so rarely that 100 of them would probably put me at the end of my life where I would die of natural causes. So this is a happy story with a happy ending..tada.
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