So anyway, I like to think I can tolerate somewhere between a good to a significant amount of bullshit. I work for a bank...the environment it absolutely teeming with it. But after a while, a decent, hard-working fellow (such as myself) really begins to question what manner of cosmic force he seems to have unbalanced that warrants the magnitude of bovine excrement that seems to keep piling up on his head.
Generally speaking, I'm okay with most of the shortcomings in my life thus far, but some things...well, some things are just unfair. Case in point I offer you: the post-coital migraine. In layman's terms, it basically means that, for what are still essentially unknown reasons, the euphoric rush of adrenaline to the brain combined with the strenuous motion required to bring about ejaculation (hehe - I said ejaculation) result in a BAD FUCKING HEADACHE FROM HELL. Anyone with a passing familiarity with my little blog here knows that I am, in a word...horny. My wife, gentle and fair soul that she is, accepts this and generally attempts to accommodate. When she can't, she accepts that I have "hobbies". So...what does one do when the universe seeks to rid him of his favorite thing(s) in life?
As fun as it sounds, I really don't see Homicidal Rampage as a viable solution. Our society, with all it's eccentricities and contradictions, still seems to frown on individuals taking it upon themselves to rid the world of a few random, albeit unnecessary people. I'm not God for certain, I'm not even particularly divine - but I like to think that I could potentially be a good judge of whom the world does and doesn't need anymore! If this month-long regimen of anti-inflammatory medication doesn't solve my little problem - some mother fucker is going to find out just how judicious I can be. And that's the current state of my status (redundancy intended) - a month of drugs. At the very least, even if it doesn't help my head, my knees should feel pretty damn good (yea - my knees don't hurt, now if I could only pop a load without feeling like I just sat through three hours with my head against Lemmy Kilmister's amp).
One thing I'm not, is patient...generally speaking. I'm patient with my son (he did give me poop as a present after all) - it's as though after he was born, my life became that of a character from a Final Fantasy game, I gained a level - thus giving me access to a new attribute. Too bad it's only good for being able to not kill him! Anyway, the point is frustration can be an ugly thing. It stews like, well...a stew. How does one find release when he can't...release? I'm open to suggestions. I've considered intoxicating my wife and convincing her that it'd be more fun if she did all the work. But I suppose that's a combination of mean, cruel, tasteless, offensive, and probably illegal somehow too! Not to mention, given our fragile state of domestic affairs, I'm not sure introducing addictive substances would be the smartest move on my chess board at the moment. As things currently stand, I'm at a loss - it's like some strange (and somewhat cruel) combination of my dog dying, my favorite TV show getting cancelled, and a heroin addiction.
Besides...who wants to just look at porn?!?! I mean, WHAT THE FUCK, right?! Where's the fun in that?!?! Oooh, look...titties! That's nice, well golly gee whiz...say, I wonder if Macy's is having a sale?
Kill me...
Kill me now, I beg you!!!
"God...come in God. This is Bad Karma...do you read?"
5 comments:
Wow, there are so many, many reasons I feel this post was just for me.
1) Your allegory to Final Fantasy was a transparent (and successful) attempt to keep me in tune with you. Knowing your audience is key.
2) Somehow it seems like a cautionary tale for someone like me who thinks he seriously wants to work for a bank. I mean, everywhere has bullshit, but when you're dealing with lots of people's money and career-path business types... yyyyeah.
3) You prove that no matter what I post on my own blog, you can stoop ten steps lower in the department of TMI. Here I was thinking maybe my blog gets slightly too... forthcoming for most people's tastes, then I click over to the pikey's blog and BAM! Poo in my hands... must be Christmas.
4) Ejaculation... heh heh... semen... teehee!
5) A subtle and gentle reminder that Homicidal Rampage isn't the answer, which I had been considering. I even made a flow chart on 22"x30" poster board and everything. Guess I wasted a trip to Office Depot.
One time I had an itch on my penis. Not the balls, like where one normally has an itch, but right on the underside of the wang. Naturally, I'd idly scratch at it while my attention was diverted to TV or whatever, and eventually it became a full-blown rash. After a few days, it started to swell and become very raw. It was like a big, swollen, burning, red bulge that wouldn't go away. Maybe I had poison penis ivy, because eventually I stopped picking at it long enough for it to return to normal. I guess you shouldn't scratch too much just because it feels good, because in the long run it will only snowball.
Heheh... snowball...
So how's that? Are we even?
My name is, after all, an anagram for TMI.
You're right Tim, it was all for you all along. You've seen through my facade and found the true meaning of my posts...bravo my good man, bravo. Now, to address your points...
1. Do you KNOW how many weeks of my life I'll never get back because of Final Fantasies II, III, IV, VII & VIII?!!!
2. Don't do it...DON'T! Ever!!! It's too late for me, but you can still save yourself. Banks are the tool of Satan. In fact, going all Tyler Durden on us and blowing up every financial institution you can find might not be such a terrible thing!
3. I have no filter. That thing...in your brain, you know, the one that's supposed to just let you think things but never say them...yeah, don't got it! Maybe Sylar came along and sucked it out of my brain, who knows...anyway. Lost it sometime around 1996 or so, I think...
4. Did I ever actually use the word semen? If not, WHAT WAS I THINKING?!?!
5. Kinko's would've been cheaper, and they have a better selection...
BTW...a big, swollen, red bulge in your pants is normal...it just means you're horny - don't scratch, just rub...the rest will just come naturally (no pun intended)! Geesh, I would've thought your folks woulda/coulda/shoulda explained that at some point! Hrmmm....
;)
WHY ARE MY PANTS STICKY ON THE INSIDE?! WHAT DO I DO?!
Word verification: ingur
Isn't that a boss in Final Fantasy VI?
Change them before you start to smell.
And for God's sake man wipe your ass from now on!!!
word verification: flargors
It must be a running theme here...
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