"GET UP OFF YO FAT ASS AN' LOSE SOME GOT DAMN WEIGHT!"

Good evening to all my Readers. I hope You are not getting hosed. Today we have "on tap" ("Ugh") nothing less than Classic Sibhod. I dedicate this post to this old friend of mine who I recently saw for the first time in forever, on the occasion of his birthday.

We all everybody knows I'm a huge stalker/creeper and that if You have a Secret Blog, chances are, I'm feeding'n'reading it. I'm real good at finding people on The Internet. Especially people I probably shouldn't be finding.

Anyway I was reading old posts on a blog of a person, whith whom I was never more than acquaintance-of-an-acquaintance - whose blog I have absolutely no business whatsoever reading. I mean really. I'd be better off reading a complete stranger's blog. But I never actually Disliked the person, and I've found myself liking their writing. Voicing the privileged white voice of the postUniv privileged white narcissist trying to "figure things out" and get along in the "big blue world".

So my point is that they are a decent writer, and there are some good concepts there, and myself being a privileged postuniv white narcissist, I could relate to some of the stuff. Not all of the stuff, mind, but more stuff than I would relate to with the Average Joe Blow. NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THE AVG JOE BLOW.

But really. Blogs are how I interact with the world because I don't really Go Out And Socialize.

I actually went out and "socialized" the other night. I didn't want to. I wanted to sit at home and play Dragon Quest 8 and go to bed at 10. So instead I was dragged to bars, where I drank diet cokes, smoked cigarettes, yawned, and tried not to blow my brains out. It boggles my mind how anyone ever thinks it's a good idea to meet members of "The attractive gender" at a bar.

We went to some bad bad bars, though. This one place the waitresses are instructed to dress like "sluts" with tiny skirts and tits hanging out and such. Absolutely it's trashy and sketchy and shady and filled with misogynists, and absolutely the Sluttishly-Dressed Waitresses pump big tips outta them. The girls are Fit - conventionally attractive - sure, but I have no enthusiasm for that whatsoever. I'd rather watch a Sports Game. And I don't like sports either. The whole time I smoked cigarettes and thought of DQ8.

Finally we ended up at this pool hall/bar where the Social Butterfly (who happened also to be a physically large and probably intimidating-looking Black Man) in our party made an overture to some young women, that we would join them in a few minutes at their pool table. Hard to tell, visually, what Subculture the girls were. Not hipster, not Scenester, not Overly trifling, just str8 up east side communitycollege girls. Hoodies and plaid shirts. Not Altogether unattractive. One girl started talking about how she had spent $600 on her boyfriend for Sweetest Day presents and he had not gotten her Anything, not even a Phone Call. This was "ironclad confirmation" of our prediction that All Women (r) love guys who don't treat them too great.

But really. If you go only to trashy bars and deal only with Immature Insecure Trifling Hoes, then yes, it might seem that way.

Not that the girls were altogether Trifling Hoes. They were young'n'immature more than anything. Something like 19 years old. And here were are, not a one of us under 26. God O Mighty.

The other guys started getting a little out of hand, then the girls (understandably) got a little more annoying in response, and I, sober as a judge, was just trying to Keep It Really Real, which entailed me trying to make everything less awkward by talking to myself and laughing awkwardly.

The girls were not My Type (dykey, bookish, libraryey, mousey, harelipped, web-footed prudes), but I didn't Hate them per se. I simply have no desire to talk to People in bars, let alone go to bars in the first place. This is what happens when you're an Introvert who is proud to be Too Weird to be part of any Subculture. I generally find people annoying to begin with. Unless they're one of the Friendlies I interact with On The Job.

But at A Bar?

Point is, I really got Roped into that one. This is when you know you need to be more Assertive about what you want and what you don't want.

I bought a dvd of "Buffalo 66" off ebay for $5.50, including shipping. Not bad uh?

I've been really digging those [Bob] Dylan shows lately. Which would make it kind of sucky if not a soul on earth wanted to drive me down there on Friday. I recommend the 2000 Show from Horsens, Denmark: Great setlist, great sound, AND you get that "It Factor" of the "Electricity" of a great show: the fans are loving it, and Bob Dylan And His Band seem to be feeding off that.

It's probably a bad idea to try to use playing "Tangled Up In Blue" as a way to Seduce women into Make-Out Land, uh? Have no fear, because I also recently learned to play "Stemmen Fra Taarnet" by BURZUM, which is clearly the better choice.

New Katatonia album. Just came out. Hadn't heard. So I pir8ed it. Sounds pretty decent, but I don't think anything will ever be the same as first hearing "Last Fair Deal Gone Down" in 2001.

"Shadow of the Colossus" is ....interesting. I'm fosho gonna get my 8 dollars' worth out of it, mind, but, some of those colossi are excruciating. Frustrating. The game looks like a dream, though. Very cinematic. Uncanny. You can just be running your horse through the land and just sit there admiring what you see. Terrence Malick, yeah yeah yeah.

19 days till I can drive again. I am going to be Living at the movie theatre.

Contrary to popular belief, I don't really hate EVERYBODY. I just hate people who like going out to BARS. I will never go to another bar ever again for the rest of my life. Bars can suck cocks in hell.

Privileged White Narcissist: "Wah wah waaah, why can't I be interested in /attracted to more people, why can't I like anyone, why can't anyone I like ever like me in return, why can't I get a Bigboy job, waaah waaaah waaah."

I'm gonna play DQ8 and listen to Bob D Live @ Horsens. That's a damn good Cure for The SadSads if there ever was one.

Hehheh. HORsens.

So yeah. I don't have A Thing against narcissistic bloggers. I'm one meself, how could I dislike them. Unless they're patently Bad Writers.

I sat there trying to identify my "scene:" I don't like hipsters, I don't like Scenesters, I don't like Cool Kids, I sure as hell don't like Avg White Trogs, I don't like people who go to bars; then I recalled that at one point I did sorta like going to bars. But it was for drinking "cheap" beer and definitely not for mingling with Potential New People. Hell no. Drink Lotsa "Cheap" Beer, get Drunk(r), play pool and darts with real, established Frynds, and get drunk enough to play ridiculous songs on the jukebox (i.e., gladly paying a dollar to download a 3-minute At The Gates song.)

But dem days is gone. Long gone. Somewhere along the timeline, it MrHyded into "sneak bottles of Rich'n'Rare into the bathroom stall and get ridiculously illegally drunk at bars because there's just too many people here and I'm too retarded to realize I don't like this bar and should have just stayed home." And doze days - I am glad to say - is gone also.

Let's get one thing straight. You don't just fall into a PhD. You don't back into it on accident. Especially not at a "good" school. You gotta eat live breathe that stuff. Obsession. That's why I never got a PhD, because I'm just not Obsessed about any Academic Subjects. I need a career I can "fall into." Because I know what I don't like - many things - and the things I do like do not translate into a career (see previous posts) : playing video games, blogging, making out with mouses. If they had PhDs in that, I'd be S.G.T.

Well, become a video game programmer/designer, you say. That's actually not a half-bad idea, but I should have started off by getting a BS in software or engineering or something. No fuck. I took one class of "computer programming" in high school and it sucked big ones. Although maybe, maybe, I might give it a second chance. As per the stoking of The IT Career.

There was this one person who classically said, "Is A Chicken A Bird?" Well, to that I say, "Is Video Game Design IT?"

Probably not.

I still haven't ruled out becoming a buddhist monk. Or even a Catholic Priest, for that matter.

Stereotypes stereotypes stereotypes. I think some people are more inclined to form stereotypes and think in terms of stereotypes, and I just happen to be one of those people. So I must take that extra step, when I see someone doing something semistereotypical, to remind myself, "Just because one person did one thing once does not mean that all people always do this all the time." Like "Mainstream Ultimate Fighting Trogs" making Mousey girls swoon.

Big F'n deal. Fighting is cool. I like starting shit and beating the shit out of douchebags. It makes me feel good.

I like putting off my homework that's due the next day so I can play Dragon Quest8, which I can play at anytime, because playing DQ8 is simply way more rewarding. Every time I try to do homework "Early" or "get ahead", I say, fuckit. It's just not worth it. This stuff is not Software "Engineering" anyway, and I'd much rather play DQ8.

DQ8's world is a beautiful world. The mountains, the oceans, the blue skies, the green fields. It's all very easy to look at.

For some reason I romanticize Scandinavia as a Beautiful world. I'd totally luv an RPG that took place in a world like that. Maybe I just wish I was Young Varg Vikernes running around in Bjoergvin, because right now, the outdoors is excruciating and I'd much rather play video games and look at that version of The Outdoors.

Yeah, I'm way too old and wise and mature to do a Screed Against Suburbia. I'm grateful to have a roof over my head, food on my plate, clothing, etc.

Fine. I'm just mad I don't make enough money to send my Hooker Fund skyrocketing. Not that I've ever met a hooker I liked.

Fine Fine. I'm just mad that even though we live in a chauvinistic society, you still can't go rampaging around tearing women's clothes off like in dreams. Maybe I should just make a video game re that. Set in the scenic world of Bjoergvin, of course.

Gotta love Manic Mondays. The theme of mondays is total mania.

So there's this sorrowful king in DragonQuest8 who has become my favourite video game character. He was a wise, just, competent, and well-loved king. Kind and smart and generally perfick. And his wife the Queen was just as perfect as he was, and they both enjoyed a mutual and egalitarian love affair with eachother. [I don't know if it was monogamous, but that's irrelevant; they were 50.1% satisfied with whatever their arrangement was.]

But then his wife died and he went off the deep end. Totally and inappropriately Consumed by grief. For the past two years. He made everyone in the kingdom wear black (mourning), and now he refuses to speak to visitors. He refuses to do absolutely anything except sit in his bedroom all day (refusing to eat his favourite meals, no less), and then, at night, he comes down to The Throne Room, where he throws himself in a heap at the foot of the throne, sobbing loud enough for the whole kingdom to hear. You try and talk to him and all he ever says is how his life is ruined and he misses his dead wife and and can't live without her and his Reign means nothing to him.

EASY THERE BUDDY. Ever heard of Plenty Of Fish? This guy has got OneItis, Baaad. You think she'd be carrying on like a huge beta baby if he was the one who died?

I'm a bit uncomfortable how Troggy, "Inappropriate" Women's Fashion has co-opted Women's Cancer Solidarity. That's what all this "PINK" stuff is about, pink ribbons, right? Or do all these 19-year-old women just have Cancer of their Fat Asses? It's an odd Juxtaposition of Symbols, when a "GirlsGoneWild" type Woman is wearing a supertight t-shirt saying "Support The Tatas." I don't get it. Wear a fucking potatoe sack and donate the money you would have spent on asspants to cancer research, BITCH.

Technically, I did make good on my Challenge to not talk about gender in a non-PC way for a week.

Libraries are the closest thing I have to a scene. I really should try to get into library school. What made things even more interesting is that we had a MLS student from the local univ library program doing some field work practicum type stuff. She was about my age, prob younger, and was pretty and somewhat stereotypically libraryschoolgirlish. That's a stereotype I don't really mind. I should have pry tried to get her number, but I wasn't feeling too social.

How wrong and ungodly and unnatural and moral event horizon-crossing would it be for me to combine my interest in Libraries With my interest in Capitalistic Business Entrepreneuriship, by Opening a Free-but-unfair Market For-Profit Library, essentially, transforming the library from a Public Good into a Private one, and then make loads o' money as a Librarian and then seduce tons o' [subconsciously menwithmoney-hungry] mousey librarygirls? Privatization? But I think I'm not really grasping the concept of "Public" goods so well.

I like how I start with good ideas and then take them horribly too far. That, and taking positive things and Perverting them.

Should I go to Public Policy School? Are there any non-highly selective Public Policy schools? That's my major problem: all the stuff I'm interested in is way too highly-selective for its own good. "Don't hate the playa, hate the game" as they say. Too many people get off on putting-in effort. What has become of Sloth?

I would like to play DQ8 for at least three hours today. It's real good for the soul. IN A WORLD where much is Soul-Sucking, to bring back That good ol' term.

Things I Hate: people who sell broken stuff on ebay and then you have to sift through all the broken stuff because you're looking for something that's Cheap but actually works.

20 mins of Major Pwnage, F.T.W.

Let me preface this by saying that this is in no way "complaining", because I deserve every punishment I've received. But I had to go in and "drop" urine one day, so I figured get there early so I can get in and get out. When I got there about 10 minutes before opening time, there was a line of about 10 guys waiting outside. Looks like many people had the same idea as I. Several men were talking profanely about their personal situations and how much it sucked that they could not drink, and how long they had left on their probations. Only one guy did I genuinely feel slightly sorry for, as he got a DUI for backing out of his driveway, where another driver hit him, and he blew a .1 . Or maybe it was a .01 and because it was an "accident" then .01 counts as alcohol being a "factor." At any rate, I tend not to really believe much of what some people say, so I didn't feel too bad for him. I just kept my mouth shut, since some people are very readily engaged in enthusiastic conversation. People were standing in line talking about drinking alc and smoking W and then they made jokes about the sign that said we were being audio/video recorded. 99.99% of people there looked at least slighty visibly "rough around the edges".

So when I was called to go "drop" (cringe), I was very frustrated to find out I could not produce. I'm a generally "bladder-nervous" type to begin with, and even though the huge black staff-man that often stands behind me is extremely nice and professional, having anyone around essentially stacks the deck against me.

So I was apologetic and said "maybe we should turn the faucet on next time" he was like that's fine, we'll try again in 10 minutes and turn the faucet on right away. (I'm one of THOSE guys.) So I waited and the waiting room was packed and one of the queuers was talking obnoxiously and potentially-recidivistically. Finally I went back in, turned the faucet on right away, tried really hard, and again, got only a few drops, and no-where near the 59 mL required. This time I was really frustrated and embarrassed and said "I don't know wot's the deal, could I try again tomorrow morning, because my Colour is permitted to 'drop' tomorrow morning too." And he said that's fine, that's ok, it won't count against you. (Because I would hate to go to jail just because I am bladder-nervous and The Law automatically assumes all you want to do is drink all day. Even if that stereotype is reasonably grounded in Reality, unfortunately.)

Then I drove home, cursing like a drunk sailor and saying all sorts of racist, redneck, troglodytic invective. The last thing I wanted to do was get up earlier and get there at 6:30 am and then have to be Late To Work on top of it all. When I got home and cooled-off for a minute, I decided to try again that same evening, called to make sure that was ok (it was, thank g-d, the staff there has been nothing but extremely nice and courteous, very impressive, etc) and then I drank a bunch of water, said "Balls if it's diluted, I just want to get this over with", jumped around a little bit because I thought that might jiggle some urine into my bladder, then I drove back, resuming my racist, homophobic tirade.

When I got back, the place was empty, which was great. I think having a lot of loud obnoxious people waiting around makes the bladder-nervous less likely to "drop." The staff remained friendly. I prepped myself by essentially trying to pee my pants while standing around. Just to bring it into the fore, if you will. I went into the bathroom with the nice big black man and I produced more than sufficient urine. It was pretty yellow, which my completely unscientific, irrational mind interpreted as being "not especially diluted per se." See, I ate a big salty dinner a few hours before, and I think that may have dehydrated me a little.

So anyway, I'm very glad that's over with, and I hope it's not diluted and I don't go to jail for that. Lesson learned: you gotta sincerely Prepare for the Drop, both mentally and physically, AND...don't get there at 5 o clock when there's a line of Grizzly Men talking about how they love drinking and can't wait to get off probation so they can start Drinking again. Idiots.

Also, I gotta wonder the percentage of people who go in there who are "bladder-shy". Doesn't seem like a lot. The good news is that I used to be way, way worse than I am now. There Is Indeed Hope!

I did not get to play 3 hours of DQ8, more like 1 hour. It felt kinda rushed, but it was better than nothing.

The well-known saying says "Everyone's a Little bit racist". When you're a young student, you are aghast: "Maybe that's true for Racists, but not Me!" But, in my old age, I can be confident and secure in saying, "Yes, perhaps I am a Little Racist." And that's Ok.

Actually not, but WHATEVS. I pee in a room with a huge black man, that's good enough for me.

The 19-year-old Autistic Genius Boy through whom I'm vicariously living has increasingly promising chances of getting into Umich. So I'm real happy for him. He visited the town/univ, which naturally only steeled his resolve.

Not that Ann Arbor Isn't Overrated - which it is - but I'll give it this: compared to anywhere else in Michigan, it's interesting. You cannot get bored. There is more going on in Annarb, more to see, more to do, it's definitely "the best" town in the state.

But therein lies the problem: The Bubble. The "Six Square miles, surrounded by reality" trope. You know. The Smug Bourgeoisness. Don't even make me use the J-Word. In an ideal world, there would not be such a goddam gaping abyssic disconnect between the Writerly Academic World and the rest of the state.

This is not to say I hate Annarb Townies. I've met some great, wonderful, classic Townies. I just want everyone to come from Annarb and "do time" in Warren or Stheights or Clinton Township or Waterford or Livonia or Belleville or Chesterfield or something.

Again, my frustration can all be succinctly summed up in:

"Privileged Narcissistic Little Immature White Boy Rage Over That I Have To Have Social Skills To Get By In Life And Can't Just Go Around Ripping Random Women's Clothes-Off Because I Can't Figure Out How To Get My So-Called 'Needs' Satisfied."

OR,

"I'm So Regretful For The Poor Decisions I Made In My Past. I Could Have And Should Have Done So Much More With My Godforsaken Life."

THE END.

Excuse me while I fetch my revolver.

"But how can you make a joke out of that, Classwar? You're so deep in denial it's not even funny! Now If you don't mind, I'm going to go S Ds!"

Hmm. Looks like you just responded to yourself for me.

But yeah. Whaddyagonnadoaboutit, WHITEY.

Privileged White Alcoholic Narcissist: "I Drink because of the Stress'n'Strain of 'Not Fitting In'/Anomie visavis my immediate environment. If you were me in this time and place, you'd feel like drinking too."

So yeah. I simply pat myself on the back every day I tack on to the Ol' Countup. 111 Right now. The easy thing to do is drink yourself into a stupor. Hell, it's the Rational thing to do. So you do it until you get in trouble for it and are forced not to do it anymore, and then you learn you must never do it again while you are living in this time and place.

There is a young woman with fake blond hair leaning over right by my face with her fat tan ass hanging out her pants. It has been solid for at least 5 to 10 minutes, and I can see it continuing well into the near future. Have some class, ass, or The Alpha will tear your clothes clean-off. She is wearing a jacket featuring the name of a popular local bar which she probably is a waitress at.

Nothing against waitresses. We all work for our money. I simply view it as a way of selling one's patriarchally-attractive body that is only one small step above traditional prostitution.

This bar has a great sunday-night special where you can get absolutely trashed on beer for pennies and then work off your hangover on monday morning. So the place is naturally packed with he-and-she-trogs (prob more hes than shes, it should go without saying), and drunk drivers stream out of the parking lot onto the 10-lane major road and get promptly pulled over by the cops who wait for the drunk-drivers to drunk-drive out of this place.

See, I'd always make sure there were no cops waiting whenever I drunk-drove out of the place. JESU. I am not proud to admit that I was A Part of The Problem.

So, the major point is, don't use alcohol to self-medicate; go to an MD/GP and get legimate medications. Those don't let you Escape your problems, but they May (but absolutely not definitely) help you Face them.

But slim is way better than none, no?

Just hook yourself up to Big IVs of Prozac and Valium and try to hold down a goddam Job, Al. And start a Spreadsheet so you can budget money from that job to pay enough to a[n Attractive, Young] Hooker to let you tear their clothes off like an animal. That is the entirety of the self-help book I've just authored.

25 minutes of News Hits:

Tuesday was a Big Election day. Morning Talk Show Personalities like Jay and Bill and Sarah seem to be optimistic about the revamped Detroit City Council. I cannot really comment, but it does seem like People wanted some New Blood here. And apparently Charles Pugh is a Gay. So that's good for Politics.

In Macomb County the new County Charter was passed. I'm not sure what this means, but to my understanding, it installs a new County Executive (whom detractors call "Czar") and reduces the number of County Commissioners from 26 to 13, which seems to be more widely-applauded than the Czar.

Maybe this is just my Evil Econ Instructor's Unabashed Anti-Gov't Rhetoric somehow sinking in, but my desire to one day run for Public Office is waning.

Steve Martin AND Alec Baldwin have been tapped to host the Oscars. I'm generally favourable, although it's a bit of overkill. Either one or the other would have been fine, although I do look forward to seeing them play off one another. I don't think this has actually ever happened yet. Either way, big improvement over previous years. Who'd they have before? Jimmy FALLON? Cheeeeeeeee-rist.

Men can get away with Gender Role Transgressions better than Women can (googlescholar the goddam article yrself), but, I'd argue, men are less Willing to do so than Women. Or are they? In other words, do you see more tomboyish women than girly men?

Whatever the answer, Gender Roles are Enforced on a Real Practical Everyday level within Relationships themselves. Essentially people are having inner debates: "If I don't act manly/womanly enough, my socially-conservative partner might question my 'straightness', leave me, or beat hell outta me with a stick." Not good, people.

Who came up with the "No White Clothes after Labour Day" Rule? Any rate, I think you should be able to get away with breaking this rule more often than breaking the "No Brown Shoes" rule, which actually makes Common Sense. But, is wearing a white shirt after Labour Day, for example, enough to Disqualify a man from potential suitors? No because every man and every suitor is different. At least the "mature" ones. Although it's kinda funny that I'm demanding "maturity", haha.

Astrology and Horoscopes are Stupid. They are For Personal, Private, Solitary Fun and Amusement Only. When a man ever talks to a woman about astrology (or vice-versa), both should be riddled to death with some kind of riddling-gun.

Oh Vincent Gallo. Buffalo 66 is ridiculously hilarious, while Brown Bunny is ridiculously sad (although B66 does have that huge "bittersweet" element, so you can see where Vince is coming from.) I'm just tired of waiting for that Ass Hole to make another movie already. I really should have just braved the hip artsy kids and saw his stupid artsy band at the Mocad the other year. But I really do cringe at the sound of the word "Mocad."

And why have I still not seen Harmony Korine's "Mister Lonely?" You'd think with all the hubbub about Michael Jackson these days, that movie, with its pivotal Michael Jackson character, might have received a fresh round of hype. But NoOoOo.

There's Nice Guy Good and Nice Guy(tm) Bad, as you all well know: the latter is the bad one - the whiny, white, privileged, narcissistic, passive-aggressive, immature crybaby who feels entitled to Stuff but never, ever Deserves stuff. (See: The difference between Entitlement and Deserving.) The former one, being Good, doesn't have many negative connotations - this is a simply a purely decent, upstanding, ethical, fair, just do-gooder, with no sense of entitlement, and who justly does deserve Stuff.

The hair I'd like to split today is that this kind of NiceGuyGood also, just like NiceGuy(tm)Bad, ALSO does not receive Stuff. Bottom line: you simply have to be a Bad (Evil) Person AND be secure/straightforward in your personal sense of Evil in order to get Stuff.

I can be a huge asshole. Lately I have made great strides in becoming less of a passive-agressive Nice Guy(tm)Bad Asshole and becoming more of a Straightforward, GoodForReceivingStuff[EvenThoughThat'sObviouslyNotRemotelyFairOrJust]Asshole, but the bottom line is, I take pride in being more of a NiceGuyGood (i.e., Straightforwardly Good; saintly) than I am a BadStraightforwardAsshole. So You get the best of all worlds: I can be a Big Dick To Your Face, but, more often than not, I'ma Do The Right Thing. So I'm a Net, 50.1% Good Person. Got it? Bitch?

My point was, being Good1 is just not "good2" enough. (i.e., here, in this sentence, "good2" = "GoodFor[Unjustly]ReceivingStuff while Good1 = A Good Person.)

(I concede, it is difficult not confusing all these Semantics.)

But, In Conclusion, my end point is: you might intially think thit Good is "just not good enough," but, rationally, logically, it really factually is - you're just a Mature Good Man (let me "tm" or "r" that term right now) adrift in a Sea of Immature, Trifling H's. You Arrogant Prick.

Pull strings for me to make 11.5 Grand, drive me to Bob Dylan and Antichrist for 40 cents a mile, Have a nice Hump Day, and don't Suck Dicks.