This is my one year anniversary of marrying this blog. A year ago I started writing without much intention only realizing that my life of constant worries about meaningless trivialities as opposed to the true hardships that I was very much aware of that surrounded me offered some sort of symbolic representation of the human condition. I’ve realized my goal now, and though I’ve attempted explanation of it many times to no avail, I will again: I attempt to analyze the world in a purely logical fashion while leaving clues to the hypocrisy of my logic along the way so that when the reader becomes emotionally disgusted with my opinions they have an easy to follow path to create their argument against me, therefore proving that logic, though important, cannot be the only thing we look to for explanation. Emotion and logic are intertwined and only by mixing these two seemingly unmixable supplements do we break the hypocrisy of life. The comment on my last entry proves that I am doing a good job.
But I don’t want to go into another attempt at explaining my life goals of being the ultimate enemy/victim, instead I will look back fondly on what this year of writing has produced in list form.
Top twenty similes used:
20. I look like a hairy holocaust victim
19. I swore like a pirate who found out his half finished bottle of rum had actually been AIDS-juice
18. I was the only one in the room with facial hair, and even that looked like I went through a car wash that threw mud on either side of my face.
17. I have facial hair like someone had given an etch a sketch to someone with Parkinsons.
16. That anorexic twig bitch seemed like she got high and was hit with a brick before she went on stage (on January Jones hosting SNL)
15. the size of my stall makes me feel like a king who has room to spare even in his poopiest hour
14. She looked like a perfect piece of veal – young and plump.
13. I smell like I’m wearing a poo wrapped in wet dog.
12. make my feet not smell like a prostitute’s vagina being soaked in the yellow snow outside the dog kennel.
11. Quiche tastes like someone’s solidified saliva with some peppers and onions.
10. running the last six blocks like a penguin on meth as I forced my sphincter closed
9. Forcing me to write that was like coating a sweet-tart in molasses, sprinkling that with a pixie stick and then force feeding that to a diabetic
8. It’s like turning mild enjoyment into super excitement by accident. (about typing yeha instead of yeah)
7. march like an epileptic camel
6. making your hands to bounce like your checks
5. If you were to make a ven-diagram of types of people we have as friends they would look like John Lennon glasses.
4. feeling like a stoned dolphin realizing it could survive on land but not knowing what to do with his new found power.
3. Life is like the time spent waiting for your purchase of cream-cheese and chive crackers to fall to the bottom of the vending machine.
2. my stomach was making like a shitter in woods seeing a by product of bee pollination
1. H2$’s Blog is like great literature.
Things I hate:
2. when people blame shit on “human nature” or that “we are animals at heart.”
3. tropical flavor Emergen-c
4. that Feist is cute
5. The sound of my alarm
6. The word l-ve
7. being safe
8. most of my surroundings
9. the dude next to me
12. My fantasies
14. when people interrupt me while I’m sitting alone at a movie theater hoping that no one in this small town recognizes me and I have to explain why I’m sitting alone at a movie theater
15. getting my snatch lapped up as pre-sex activity because I feel guilty that he has to deal with my dirty citrus yogurt
16. that all my friends are getting married
18. physical exertion
20. repeating the same joke twice
Things I love:
2. Being on stage
3. Jersey Shore
4. The Unknown
My Biggest Enemies:
10. The washer and dryer
9. 16 year old girls
8. Dairy queen
5. My Mom
I wanted to talk about my day too. But I want to talk about my day thrice. First I will discuss my day as I would have around when I started this blog. Second around the time when I gave up on H2$. Third as I would now.
1. Fridays are a good day for Hulu. NBC has a plethora of decent to good sitcoms and Fringe comes out. I like Fringe because it allows me to zone out for 45 minutes while supposedly intense shit goes on. This makes me feel like I’m intense. If I’m watching something fascinating, my life must be fascinating as well, right? Also, I like Walter’s assistant. She’s hot. So, post hulu exploration, I thought about her for a little longer, this time with my hand on my penis, and then took a nap.
Nothing is better than a post self-coital nap. I told myself that post nap that was post self-coital I would shave, but my beard has gotten too long to shave in a reasonable time, so I postponed that for a day when I don’t have other things to do. Other things like update my fantasy basketball teams, make sure my comedy troupe’s twitter page is funny enough for it’s 6 viewers, and think about Walter’s assistant again.
I hope I don’t have to do so much tomorrow so that I can shave.
2. I live in the safe haven of mother’s who should not have safe haven. Park Slope is a place reserved for self righteous moms who feel it their right to let their kids throw food all over the floor of any establishment and tip 10%.
I’ll just say it: I hate stay at home moms.
I obviously can’t tell somebody that they need to work to support our society because I am somebody who has made it a mission in life to not work more than 20 hrs a week ever in my life, but I don’t like those who decide that hiring an Au Pair is a job. I hate stay at home dads just as much (a little less because they aren’t conforming to a gender norm). When I was a kid, my parent’s worked 60 hours a week each and hired a baby sitter 5-7 times in their lifetime.
I’m not saying that everybody should be as amazing as my parents were, but changing a baby’s diaper is the job you agree to when you decide sperm should infest your uterus, and making sure a restaurant doesn’t have to deal with the mushed avocado and juicebox splashings that your child decides is necessary to try to attract your attention while you are talking to other mothers about how cream compliments light purple in your attic.
My parents both worked a lot and loved me a lot. They both spent time with me. They both raised me. The reason we have adults who believe there is a “woman’s job” and a “man’s job” is because they grew up watching a mother who did one specific thing, and a father who did one specific other thing.
Everybody should grow up like me. Everybody should be me. Except that many people joking about suicide would make suicide too reasonable an option.
3. I don’t quite understand sibling relationships because I grew up an only child. I sit at my computer with my door open simply so that I can hear my roommate play Modern Warfare while on the headset with his younger sister who is playing the same game. They are literally saving each other from life or death situations figuratively. This is not at all the first time I have had a roommate who plays online games with their sibling, but this is the first time I’ve had a roommate who has discussed how he would “bang and marry” the first girl who he met who could beat him at Halo who plays similar games online with his sister who is doing better than him.
When I look for a sexual partner mate I look for someone who will both deal with my redundant way of talking and someone who is exactly like me. I’m glad I don’t have a sister who got the same genes as me. I would just have to hope that my family’s ridiculous skinniness would have made her a hot girl in middle and high school and nurture took precedent over nature so that my laundry list of insecurities about my appearance were non-existent in her life of easy attention and easy sex.
I have a lot of females that I consider near-sisters. Luckily I’m legally allowed to fuck them, otherwise my subconscious fantasies that I already feel guilty about would make me feel really guilty, and I’m too lazy for the word “really.”
So. I change. That’s the point of this shit. It’s been a year and shit changes. I am a beautiful transformer.
This is my 186th post – giving me 1 post every 1.96 days
I have an avg of about 28 views per day over the year. Oh, I’m sooooo famous.
1.46 comments per post
114,813 words at 620 words a post
Sexism/Sexist: 15 posts
Racism/Racist: 14 posts
Homophobia/Homophobic: 6 posts
Fuck: 53 posts
Shit: 73 posts
Pussy: 10 posts
Vagina: 14 posts
Cock: 11 posts
Dick: 20 posts
Penis: 21 posts
Douche: 15 posts
Mom/Mother: 39 posts
Dad/Father: 32 posts
3 thoughts on “One Year”
I like the first paragraph. Don’t know if you’ve recanted that philosophy to me before. Could it be new?
I like simile no. 5. By the way what did Dan do with those glasses of yours?
Leah broke up with me last night. I left the farm in tears + hitched a ride to spend the night at a stranger’s house. Tonight I don’t know where I will stay. Tomorrow Leah and I have a reservation at a hotel in a little tourist village in the North. I am going and waiting to see if she will come. If she doesn’t, then I think my story here is finished and I will be back in the States soon. Wish me luck.
One thing about Leah you might appreciate: When something bad happens she always says the worst thing possible. At first I thought she was a bitch (I was right) but then I realized it is also her way of absorbing the negativity from the situation and making everyone else feel better about themselves.
Man, I don’t know if this is the appropriate venue for you to be explaining your love hardships, but who am I to judge – I love overly open too much honesty.
Ian’s the one who lost my glasses.
I’ll leave you with a quote from me in a gchat convo I had recently:
Self-deprecation is the best form of self-aggrandizement because it allows people to think they are better than you, then feel pity, then find reasons why they like you that aren’t selfish (aka: they just want to feel better about themselves) then they find reasons to love you instead of you telling them reasons to love you.
I don’t agree with all of what I just said, but I think there is validity to the path of reasoning.
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