I Do These Awful Things

I was just thinking all night about ridiculously useless thoughts that have basically no relevance to each other, except that, whatever, can’t even finish that train of thought because my deficit of attention is operating at all time high and i have nothing, no one, to blame for this except being a part of Generation Y or something.

Can’t even remember for a second what generation I am though I have been sporatically scanning the papers/internet for anything slightly related to it just so I can use it as an excuse to everything I do that’s wrong.

Anyways, I tried to talk about it at work today. The generation thing, and how I believe we are going to take over the world and Generation X is going to get skipped entirely and probably be pissed because they have been working so hard their entire lives hoping to inherit the world from the sick and stupid baby boomers.

I tried to talk about it at work and no one listened. Not because we were busy or anything, actually, I’m pretty sure during this my co-worker was writing 2 letter labels onto a sheet full of stickers and had approximately 99.9999% of her brain free to talk about whatever it is I wanted to talk about, YES, who is going to inherit the god damn world, but she just shrugged it off.

Honestly, no one listens to me, ever. I am convinced of that, and that is because until I have done something great and have a legion of fans fawning over every ounce of wisdom I spit out I am just a girl who’s going to get ugly old and die like everyone else.

Anyways, I do this terrible thing. I take parts of my hair when I’m watching youtube videos and I twist them so much that they become a dreadlock, basically, and then I can’t untangle it so I just cut the whole thing off.

2become1

I wish I could just somehow morph into my computer and just live inside the internet completely. No more body, just my soul, whisking through the wires of the internet of binary like a shooting star of spirit, honestly. Honestly, honestly, honestly, this is what I want to do.

Many people over my already too long lifetime (wish I was dead, inc) have noted that I need to separate myself from machine and find myself in some kind of real life, but it’s baffling, because they tell me this over the internet (and I do not know how to use punctuation properly), and they are part of my internet life. My real life consists of an entirely different set of circumstances without the internet, because I am not allowed to talk for 6-10 minute segments at a time and have any one person listen to that rant without interrupting it with something about themselves.

Therefore, the internet is pure selfishness, relating to myself, talking about myself, analyzing my feelings, and if I wanted to reach true enlightenment, which is probably the opposite of selfishness, I must live completely selfishly (because all opposites are the same thing – philosophy), and must live inside the internet to be truly enlightened.

Surprisingly I have found myself thinking that one day I will have a real terribly stereotypical life because of biological desires that I can’t control. For instance, this year babies suddenly have become cuter yet I am still afraid of holding them or touching them or holding their eye contact for too long, though the latter is an entirely different reason, it’s totally creepy to stare at a baby for a really long time and it’ll probably start to cry.

Guys, I actually witnessed a pedophile in action in Melbourne about a month ago. He was on the bus, TOTALLY without a doubt checking out this 8 year old boy. It wasn’t just staring to see what kind of shenanigans the kid would get up to next, it was definitely a look that I have seen many old weird dudes give me before, and it made me feel weird to see him look at kid the way he was. He was giving these occasional weird creepy smiles to the kid whenever he looked in his direction, and the boy looked totally creeped out by it and pretended to ignore him, much like girls do when guys with zero game try to lock eyes with them.

Anyways, next this 8 year old girl gets on the bus, and this bisexual pedophile faggot zooms right to her like he’s just took a melted cinnamon bun out of the microwave and I am staring at him from his other side with the meanest death eyes just hoping he looks my way. He finally does, looks freaked out, the expression flashes off his face and he starts looking nonchalantly around the bus at other things, whistling. I’m just kidding, he wasn’t whistling, he was doing everything else I said though.

So I guess what I learnt from this story, is now I am definitely an adult, because pedophiles don’t like me anymore.

Oh well.

Underpolegetic

People create blogs to express themselves, and the one emotion that we are taught to repress is anger, right? Or did I just grow up in a too white family that teaches you to act nicely and smile in order to show everyone you are handling your shit well?

So, when they come to their blogs, they come to unleash all the fury they had to hold in in order to get along with the world. Every once in a while, said person with said blog (probably me) will go through the blog and realize ‘wow, I am such an angry person on the nets, I should be happier and cooler and spread cheer and whatevs’, make one positive blog update, and then return to the usual procedure of blog abuse once they have a bad day.

This is not going to be that kind of blog update.

IRL, I am way cool to everyone unless they catch me on the downside of a mood swing and then I am probably like Lil Kim minus all the vagina-speak. I don’t know, is Lil Kim obscene? I feel like she is, and that she’s in jail right now. She’s probably in jail right now, right? Black people are always periodically in jail, right?

I was reading a popular Kurt Cobain biography on the plane ride home, ‘Heavier than Heaven’, I think.
Jesus, that kid is such a crazy little selfish liar brat. It made me feel way better for being such a crazy little selfish liar brat, and that’s saying something. I honestly give ultimatums to people who don’t even deserve them, decide not to like people just because of how their clothes fit, exaggerate my stories to make myself seem way more awesome than I really am and parade through the streets with a sense of entitlement to everything that this world holds. And, I truly felt that the beginning of Cobain’s life held some kind of holy punk rock mystique, he lived with a member of the original Melvin’s lineup and that is pretty cool. However, at the core, he is just a kid who grew up a kid liking shitty music like U2, yes, U2, and slowly grew into his fated coolness, which was all premeditated in the first place. This guy was saying he was going to get famous and kill himself from the beginning, according to his friends that knew him a long time ago. I am just going to believe everything this autobiography says because I have nothing else to go off of and it honestly makes me sleep better at night knowing Kurt Cobain played up his broken home to make his inner turmoil seem more legit.

My whole generation is made up of selfish brats like this, and it is hilarious, and I don’t feel like writing anymore. Except I feel like this is an adequate slap in the face to the hippy parents that raised kids like us, in a way. Like we somehow outselfished the hippies.

Congratulations, everyone.

98 degrees

I am starting to develop true feelings toward my iPhone. In fact, I specifically downloaded the wordpress app just to express the fact, even though my laptop is less than 2 feet away from me open with 6 unrelated tabs and iTunes playing soft swedish rock. Last week I read an article titled the ‘a-z’s of generation y and yes, truly suddenly, my entire life made sense. I think me restarting my blog is symptomatic of this epiphany. Accepting my love for this phone is symptomatic of this epiphany, and me wanting to tell you 5-20 almonds are on my bed right now too is also just a result of my celebration for being generation y. I have also discovered I am writing poorly right now, but I will still post this for the sake of the update.

To the Fans

I would like to thank you, in my own convoluted way, for being so awesome as to check my blog multiple times over the WEEKEND.

Personal shout outs go to:

My family – if you’re reading this, HEAAYYY! STILL CRAZY! Not that it takes a lot to seem ‘wacky’ when you live in ‘Thunder Bay, Ontario.’
ps. you guys are so RACIST!

Vancouverites – whoever you are, I probably don’t like you.

Montrealers – I love all of you.

Random people from spots in California – Totally neutral.

And all these bros from Indonesia / Pakistan who are now getting my site as a result when they search for things like “Happy birthday” because I am on their side of the world.

How / Why does google even do that stuff? Whenever I search for something I get Australian news FIRST and I’m actually only interested in American headlines.

As in Balloon Boy.

HOW COOL WAS -THAT-.

Also, someone who uses Windows Vista and lives in Toronto checks my blog way too often. Since all of my friends are deathless hipsters, who definitely don’t use PCs, I probably don’t know you, and you are totally not welcome in my exclusive club of blog readers.

Toronto is the worst!

Bye.

Gettin’ Stalked

Hi guys.

Please remember that everything I write in my blog is a fleeting joke and part of my ‘74 year old man persona’.

This is the only time I am going to say it.

The things I write on my blog have absolutely no bearing on my ‘IRL personal life’.

It is about as true as a Saturday Night Live sketch in 1997.

Happy Birthday to You

I have decided to ‘blog’ again. This idea has been occasionally presenting itself to me, since most of my time is spent idly thinking about things I should do to feel like life is meaningful again. Blogging didn’t seem meaningful enough for me to act, but what did made me act and open this ‘new post’ was an article I had just read by some writer from Los Angeles titled ‘what its like in a mental institution’ or something. This guy is a terrible writer. I always criticize every blog I read, and conclude with a judgment on the worth of someone based on the value of their writing, so most people are not very valuable to me. This could also have something to do with being a sociopath, but I am not a sociopath. I hate sociopaths.

I saw that this guy has 2 books he is waiting to get published, and then decided for him that he should give up on his dream, ‘no one wants to read your books’.

From one article, I have sealed his fate for him.

Since the Sims 3 download I acquired from a torrent site doesn’t run well, I am going to play God in other ways.

If you want me to honestly evaluate your life, I will for you, for free, as long as you have a blog. It will work on a scale of 1-100, 100 being a very valuable person, and 1 being completely worthless.

I am not sure if I will turn my comments back on. I prefer a one-sided conversation. Comment sections are playgrounds for serious creeps/’secret internet fatties’.

I would say that my own life has a value of around 87, but I really mean 12.

I understand that it is not fair to judge people without judging yourself the same way, so for every thing I want to criticize someone else for, I must criticize myself for it. Seems worth it. My ‘blog personality’, I’ve decided, is 74 year old man living alone in an apartment in New York. He eats at a soup kitchen everyday, and has acquired the apartment for free from an old dead relative. He hates children, animals, and women. His pants are one size too small, he wears suspenders to hold them up. His shirt is always ironed. He wears a bow tie. He always shaves. He looks like a homosexual. He is probably gay.

He also hates fat people.

I also hate fat people.

This is the only thing we have in common.

R.I.P Blog

Let’s be honest about something everyone already knows: blogging is lame.

When I’m not busy with school, I’m putting together a collection of fictional stories, living vicariously through other (better) characters than myself. Since I share these only with trusted friends, you can read my tumblr.

This is a post pointing you to that direction.

matsue.tumblr.com

It will be useful for random photos, three second theories, random excerpts, and anything else easy.

Bye!