Tag Archives: earth shattering

Sick, Sick Bastards

27 Jan

The most hits I’ve gotten in, like, forever were on my “Like Having Sex With a Republican” post. What is wrong with people?

I have nothing else to write. I am filled with self-loathing today. I say this not because I’m seeking pity, but to tell the kids that even the best of us (like, say, unemployed people with poorly-maintained blogs) feel bad sometimes.

Off to catch up on the news so I can find someone else to hate!

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Is There Something Wrong With Me?

14 Jan

90% –okay, like, 95%–of people annoy the living shit out of me. I’m trying not to be so easily irritated, but they make it so difficult.

Also, too, I used the term “also, too” without any irony last night. At least I was drunk?

Oh, I Didn’t See You There!

10 Jan

Hi, errbody!

I don’t make resolutions (down that path lies failure, disappointment, and self-hatred), but I have promised myself that I’m going to try and do more to bring about self-satisfaction and contentment, even if those things are difficult and/or uncomfortable. In other words, I would like to replace some of the hours per day I spend sleeping, looking at Twitter, and doing crosswords with making things, interacting with other people, and writing.

I am (or perhaps my depression is) astonishingly good at creating excuses not to do shit, even shit that I actually want to do and know would make me happy. I tell myself that the reason I haven’t been updated my poor little blog is that I haven’t had a reliable internet connection for months, but honestly, I probably would have found another reason to neglect it even if I’d had service. After all, “but those smug pig bastards on Angry Birds are smirking at you!” and “masturbation is fun!” and “nobody wants to read your bullshit, anyway!” are all compelling arguments, too.

But, like, so what? All of those things may be true, but it’s also true that writing something, even a little blog post, brings me a sense of accomplishment. It stretches and strengthens the muscles I need to use if I want to make my life’s dream my vocation. It’s something small I can do, even when everything seems impossible.

So, I’m making the commitment to myself and to anyone who does want to read my bullshit to update more. My internet connection still ain’t that great, napping is still awesome, and my writing skills are a little rusty, but I still owe it to myself to do something that makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something, no matter how small it may be.

In other news, I realized that I’ve never posted a video on this blog featuring the dude who inspired my nym. This is one of my favorite Morrissey songs (it’s close enough to Music Monday, right?):

I just can’t quit you, you quasi-racist vegan bastard.

All Growed Up

10 Nov

“Shower” and “drink water” are on my to-do list for today.

Half a Person

28 Jul

I’m planning on writing a series about depression when, um, I’m less depressed (or have fewer things to do that take up my energy and willpower), but I thought I’d talk briefly about one of the symptoms I have that I hate the most. When my depression gets bad, I become really, really dumb.

My ability to learn quickly, remember things, problem-solve, and concentrate completely goes away. I’ve seen people* try to chalk these symptoms (especially lack of concentration) up to excess rumination, which can be true, but it’s beyond that. It’s truly a physical response–my brain slows waaaaay down. I forget how to do things I’ve done hundreds of times before. I can’t do simple math or remember short strings of numbers. I haven’t read a remotely challenging book in quite some time because I’m simply not up to it.

I’m okay with being a space cadet (I always have been, and had daydreaming down to an art when I was in school), but feeling slow and stupid? I hate it. Especially when my brain is already trying to tell me that I’m incompetent, useless, fat, lazy, unloveable, etc etc etc.

The worst part about it is that there’s nothing I can do about it. Sometimes caffeine helps, but that also makes me more anxious, which also makes me stupid (although in a different way–yay!). All I can do is try and turn off the asshole part of my brain and resist telling other people, “No!!! I’m not normally this stupid, I swear!” It sucks.

*Mostly dicks who don’t believe that there’s any physiological aspect to depression and that it’s all in people’s heads. Unfortunately, a lot of these people are considered “experts”. Which is part of the reason why I feel like I need talk about these things with complete candor sometimes.

Embarrassing Habits

15 Jul

I’ve started employing the double thumbs-up indiscriminately. I feel so dorky doing it, but I can’t stop. Pretty much the worst thing ever.

Thought of the Day

25 May

I just realized I can’t stand George Nelson.

I think this is one of the most hideous classic pieces of mid-century modern furniture EVAR. It’s ungainly and it looks like a chest sprouted legs. There’s something about its proportions that make me shudder. I hate it.

This takes a close second. Ugh.

I will say that his classic daybed is nice and one of the few pieces I like that have hairpin legs.

Iiiiii ohhhhh I’m Still Alive

11 May

Flashback!

Despite rumors to the contrary, I am, indeed, still alive. Just a little overwhelmed with shit right now.

If you believe in some sort of god or cosmic thingamadood (I know most people who read this blog don’t, but wev), please throw some good thoughts up for me? Nothing horrible, tragic, or terrible has happened, but it seems like I just cannot.catch.a.break.

I Give Up

18 Apr

Y’all can stop fighting over who’s going to take me to Atlas Shrugged Part One the First Part because Ed’s review told me everything I needed to know.* It sounds horribly painful. And not in a fun way.

Scoregasm called it with the comparison to Battlefield Earth, although this movie is clearly worse. Obviously, I am not tough enough for it, as I was incapable of watching Battlefield Earth for more than twenty minutes before I had to turn it off for fear that I would have a brain aneurysm. And that shit was in space. I fucking love space!

I don’t think it’s even worth watching in hopes that I can make hilarious (to me) jokes about it. I can already tell that it is so mind-suckingly awful that it would be like wading into Freeperville, and only the best alchemists can turn that kind of shit into comedic gold (see also and also, too). Needless to say, I am not one of them, and if turning thirty has taught me anything, it’s to accept my limitations. I sadly admit defeat.

*No need to thank me for the immense amount of traffic my blog will provide, Ed. No, really. The pleasure’s mine.

TANGENTIALLY RELATED UPDATE: I hate people who take a dump in a public restroom and don’t have the courtesy to stick around for ten seconds and take the responsibility for a second (or third) flush when it’s needed. Nobody wants to see your fecal leavings. WHO IS JOHN GALT?

Okay, Now Y’all Are Just Fucking with Me

12 Apr

“cankle porn pics”?

I shan’t be back!