What's New (?)

The question mark is in parenthesis because while I'm asking you what is new I am also painfully aware that as the writer of this blog I am also the only reader. So here's the update for me to me by me me me. I scoff at you, yes you who walks around without a care in the world, unaware that I used to be able to do that without worry myself. Now I am uninsured and life will be back to Advil and pain when I walk, sit, lay down, etc. You see, now that I am a college graduate, I am fucked. I can't get a job that suits me or my talents (my main talent is sarcasm and House M.D. already has writers). I want to write but lack the skill to get a job. I can't get a menial job that will dole out insurance. I can't be homeless because I'm quite fond of bathing and masturbating in private. For whatever reason I have become stuck in life. My part time job for Frito is great...for a kid in school, not a grown man looking to be proud of his life. My other job, which I'm getting to like more and more is teaching Taekwon-do. Can you see the difficulty of my situation? My legs stop working and I'm still supposed to teach some kid how to kick. Irony? Divine retribution? So that's my life's story, or maybe just the last couple days but at times that feels like a lifetime. How are you?

Unemployment for the Unemployed and Undesirable

Welcome to the wonderful world of blogging. It is a magic place and in this place magical happenings happens...kind of redundant I think. I find it increasingly harder to come up with interesting things to write about in a way that would amuse me, because if you've ever read anything of mine then you know my primary goal is to amuse, mainly myself, but if I happen upon a subject that is appealing to all then I feel good about that too. And as nobody ever reads these I am at liberty to say whatever the hell I feel like without fear of repercussions. I, of course, would never do or say anything to offend anyone as many of my friends will attest to...hehehe. All I'm saying is that nothing ever comes back to haunt you or bite you on the ass. That's all. On to what I like to refer to as the Holy Grail, a job. I can't find one doing anything. I moved to Ventura in June and have been looking damn near everyday for something, anything to bring in some sort of income, but alas, my cock is too small for porn and I'm too fugly to model, so my future looks bleak. But as the power of Christ compels me, I persevere. I'm living in a time where it runs you down looking for a minimum wage job to simply pay rent. I feel that now that I have my degree I should be better than that, I'm not, but I feel I should be. Does the fact that it all seems so bleak right now mean that it's broken or I am?

M.J. is Gone...

This week will, confusingly, be remembered as the week that Michael Jackson died, at least physically. What is more bizarre than a life less ordinary such as his? Well his death of course. Every day we are bludgeoned by some form of breaking news about how he (might have) died. This top news somehow supercedes the President making strides in Russia, the insanity of the election in Iran, the countless heroes who have died this week protecting...whatever. For some reason the death of a reclusive singer who has not been popular for a good 15 years stemming mostly from him touching children (spiritually or physically). I'm not judging the man for his actions that were newsworthy so many years ago, and I have no hero worship of a man who sang songs that I liked. What I do find so disgusting about this fiasco is that his death is what has brought this crazed mob of frightening fans. For days after his death there were legions of people outside the UCLA medical center hoping for, what? What could have possibly driven anyone to spend more time in L.A.'s ridiculous traffic to stand outside of a hospital? Was there a singular thought that they were going to see him, his corpse? Was there a wave of thought that somehow believed seeing a body would make their lives better or give them closure? I am sickened by the weirdness that followed the death of a weird man, in fact I half expected Elton John to re-rewrite another "Candle in the Wind". I loved Michael Jackson's music, and I want to be clear about that, I own a lot of his music, danced the night away to it, didn't stop til I got enough, but that was music from another man in another time. His death was handled with the care of an underpaid dishwasher with a media so hard-pressed to put anything but what is going on in the world on television that it became necessary to bombard us 24/7 with the whodunit of his death. We should demand better.

Fuck Supercuts!

How difficult is it to master the measuring process. By this I mean when I say just take an inch of everywhere cause I still like it kind of long and then I show her just how long I want it by putting my finger up to where I want it (and thank folks are the operative words here 'I want it') cut to. I am seriously angry right now as to where it is hard to think and write. I liked my hair the length it was but just needed it trimmed. To give you an approximation as to how short she gave it (she broke out clippers) it will take at least 3/4 of a year to grow back, and my hair grows pretty fast. I tell myself every time I go there that it will be the last time because I have yet to have a good experience there or Fantastic Sams for that matter, and yet every time I go back. It's nothing to do with a forgiveness type thing or forgetfulness because I go there and think about how badly I wish I was the guy who would spend $50 on a haircut, but because of my poor upbringing I find it difficult to even pay the prices at this shithole of a place. She has ruined my day, week and month to come, and honestly the first indicator should have been that this middle aged woman had a black eye. I would have chalked it up to simple domestic abuse but now I'm under the impression that I was not the first person to disagree with her "technique". Consider this my boycott to this the land of inexperience. I truly believe that I will start collecting money via this and facebook for my next hair style.

The Groundlings

This past Wednesday I started classes at the Groundling’s School of improv. I LOVE IT! It scared the ever living hell out of me because I hate going into situations where there are going to be people that are better than you at whatever, but when I got there we all started chatting about movies and actors and we jumped right into work. At no time did I feel overwhelmed and everyone there was beyond supportive. I feel confident that this will help me in chasing my dream of acting. I also feel confident that that last line was clichéd enough to be part of a Bring it On movie.

Elegy of Cassettes

I said goodbye today to the last real vestige of a former friend. It was weird because it was a mix tape (yes, screw you, I still have a tape deck in my car) that I don’t really listen to but has been in my tape player in my car for as long as I have had the car. I occasionally listen to it and drift back but lately the memories aren’t as vivid as they used to be. Anyways, the tape kept getting eaten, this is something that the youth of today has never had to experience; the shear terror of thinking that your tape had been destroyed, getting out a pencil and putting it eraser-end first and trying to rewind it. I kind of miss that, that personal connection you have with tapes. CD’s were sort of like that but once burning onto a computer became the norm the connection was severed. It meant something to you if you had a great tape that was lost to you because it was harder to replace it. Today was that day for me and my old friend. My villainous car ate my tape and no matter how I rewound it, it just kept eating it. When I reached my destination I literally took the tape out and said goodbye to her. Some memories need to be just that, memories, not constant reminders, especially when you were the prick.

My Easter Thoughts

When I was young I went to church and catholic school. I learned about God and “His” laws and believed unquestioningly, immediately. The mere threat of hell was enough to make sure I never took the lord’s name in vain. But I grew up.

When I was young I watched Sesame Street every morning. I learned about right and wrong and how to count lady bugs at the lady bug’s picnic. A bad attitude meant you were a monster living in a trash can and open mindedness meant you lived with your best friend who collected paperclips. But I grew up.

As such, I still took lessons from both that are with me today. I have good ideas about what is right and wrong. The blessing is I’m no longer encumbered by crazy shit that threatens my “soul”. I have come to a realization that I can be a good person and live a good life or not. I am kind of comforted by the fact that no one knows with any degree of certainty what awaits us when we die. Philosophers were speculating long before Jesus ever entered into the picture. Death should be a comforting idea rather than the most terrifying threat of your life wondering if your soul is going to burn for an eternity. Everyday you should be good with how you’ve lived your life so far, not for some unyieldingly violent deity but for your own conscience.