my brain just threw up a little…

http://img242.imageshack.us/img242/6827/howtonotfailatlifepn3he9.png

haha

nice

so what you are saying is that…

if I had a doctorate in some fucked up science that pays, I would still have to deal with my ex? woah…

I am  going to go home and feed my dog now.

My dog and I are in a tribe!

Fuck you and your tribe! Steak FTW, bitches!

rawr

today is one of those days that make me want to quit everything there is to quit and start from scratch.

and don’t you open your mouth to tell me that snappy “Welcome to my world” crap. You do not feel what I feel, so put a sock in it. And likewise, except this is my blog, and I will not shut my mouth. You no likey? gtfo

nothing to restart. What is there to live for, really?

We are not some celestial clouds of sentient fart-fumes floating through paradox of time-space continuum. We are bound with our cognition to this sack of flesh with no definite expiration date, but expiration is guaranteed. Our perspective is limited indeed.

What is really there to live for? (yes, this was a fucking preposition. ref to that “sock” part just above)

Reproduction? Done. Now what?

Art? Fuck off. And whistle. Done. Now what?

Making life better for others? Absolutely! as soon as I get enough resources and absolute empirical evidence (or chain of) that guarantees that I am not losing anything and no-one with more resources than I will gain anything as the result of my effort to make life better for others who are not so fortunate.

Spiritual ascension? I cannot discuss that. Its that “Spiritual” that makes it un-discussable. Spiritual is NOT Religious. If you don’t know the difference – get a sock! Just one. For your mouth. We will not be concerning ourselves with the priest-hole.

Remember that “Fight Club” film? Tyler in the tub, talking about his father. that whole “Now what?” monologue, remember? No? If not, then get a sock until you see that part. Yes, please continue. Tyler puts it in such fashion that explains how parents have to stop telling their kids what to do after a certain age. It is all sorts of cute in the movie. In real life – not so much.

So you got a degree, a partner, a job, a dwelling, kids, headaches, job, comfort, … ok. now what? Self-realization? “the desire for self-fulfillment, namely the tendency for him [the individual] to become actualized in what he is potentially. This tendency might be phrased as the desire to become more and more what one is, to become everything that one is capable of becoming.” (this quote is ganked from wikipedia who in turn ganked it from someone else, who in turn heard some shrink (A Maslow) say it. )

Something else… if you thought that “A Maslow” something other than first initial and last name of one Abraham Maslow – get a sock.

I am miles and years and countless paychecks away from that Maslowtopia. I just need to exist with myself.

What are we starting from scratch again?

this is awkward. This is like writing a personal diary and leaving it on your desk for all to see. thankfully not many come to see it.
But seriously, if I needed to have a million hits to this piece of brainy discharge, all I have to do is get some theme with pink flowers, unicorns and my little ponies, and an upclose shot of some rapper-babe shaker. Title it “my unicorns corny horner” and watch this POS get dug.
Option two – name this “Why Uncle James is drooling every time my mom walks by…”
Option three – start posting some scary grotesque images that would get good half women all sorts of righteous, and most men hard.

ah, teh intertubes.

I am sure there is some religious sect somewhere (prolly in the scary place called bible belt) that firmly believes that using computer is a serious hell-worthy trespass.
I would google them, but I am too afraid that doing so will earn me some eternal, dry, and rough buttseks once I get to hell. It will be like throwing blood-soaked “MyLittlePony” to a pit with rabid poodle-chihuahuas.

… why is it that humans always assumed that gods have some interest in them? What if gods to us what we are to field mice? with the same level difference in level of intellect. Consider for a moment what we would do to field mice when they start squeaking too loud, eating our food, crapping in our underwear drawer, multiplying like crazy, and trying to quote us say “rawr, ghmfooflez, wee, kaka, industrialite blendo…”

Still wanna mess with the gods? How about this: “Enjoy your existence. Don’t shit in gods pantry. And quit quoting gods. Its not what they intended to say, and in all likelihood what was said was not intended for you, and was said in a language you cannot comprehend.”

so… go fail at reproduction or something.