"... so it's friday. so fucking what?"
"... yahoo! education's word for the day: replete. means full, abundant. well, let's use it then. i'll start, ahem, ahem... you're so replete of shit!!!"
"... what the fuck is wrong with this radio station? it has the same song played on a loop for about forty minutes now. something's terribly wrong here. maybe somebody entered the booth and murdered the DJ. i hope somebody entered the booth and murdered the DJ. honestly, i do."
"...i have this idea for a movie. yeah, my life! i'm sure you've thought of that, too. that your life would somehow be a great story for a movie someday. what's pathetic though is that it's the only reason you don't commit suicide. yeah, you like to reach the age of 50 or something. why? because you think by that age you'd somehow end up successful and it would make a dramatic and heart-warming ending to your feelgood movie. bullshit! wake up, because jerry fucking maguire ain't real!"
"... my last post about engineers didn't do well in terms of comments. which can only mean one thing. majority of my readers are engineers. and i have offended them. sweet!"
"... i was in a packed elevator the other day. i noticed a girl gave me that look. y'know, that look that says: 'shit, why did i have to stand next to this guy?' it was fucking fascinating. just then i had the urge to pick my nose in front of her. but i didn't. i hate elevators."
"...i don't wear sunglasses indoors. i don't talk on my cell phone for 14 hours a day. i don't have a blackberry or an XDA. i'm not trendy. i don't even know what that motherfucking word means. i don't drive a BMW, in fact, i don't even own a car."
"... i like giving doofy smiles to strangers. i like it more if i get to watch them freak out because of my doofy smile."
"...i don't own one piece of nice clothing. in my fabulous collection of stupid, lame, moronic t-shirts, there's one suit. y'know that one suit a boy buys in high school? the suit that's supposed to make him a man?
yeah, that's my one suit. and it doesn't fit anymore. as a result, my director / co-producer is having a hard time finding me a sponsor for my wardrobe."
"wouldn't it be great if we could just slap each other's palms with shit everytime we shake hands? like everytime we meet new people: 'hi, my name is, A. {splat..shake...shake... shake.. shake.. wipeoff} and you are? oh, my name is john. {splat..shake...shake... shake.. shake.. wipeoff} i'm the new neighbor.' suburban hipocrisy, i swear. anyway, shit, right. of course, we'd all have to wear cologne to somehow fight the smell. then the cologne smell will be infused with the shit smell and we'll all end up having this weird semi-european smell. that would be fun fun fun!"
//i'm out.
10.11.2005
they don't get it... i don't get it... fuck!
so i sat in this meeting for most of the morning. the thing sucked big time. it was about our operations and million kilowatt-hours and shit, y'know, this and that. anyway, i can honestly say that the meeting was the most painful three hours i've ever had in a room full of engineers... yes, including the gang rape incident 8 years ago.
then we came to the part where we talked about this big project we'll embarking on early next year -- the construction of two friggin' hydropower plants. it's big. as in billions big. that's when i dozed off. when i woke up, they were talking about acquiring a number of boring machines worth at least a cool 1.5 million each for the project.
"that's it!" i said to myself. something has to be done. so i got off my chair and said:
"what the fuck do you dipshits need those things for?!! boring machines? for what? i mean, don't you think we have enough of that shit in this company already? just take a look at you guys, 20 minutes into the meeting and you almost had me take out my lighter and burn the chest hairs of our hairy boss here, harry (not his real name, but i had to make a rhyme). you fucking bored the hell out of me!!! i say we save the money and buy ourselves some kickass karaoke machines instead. so who's with me?"
they paused. stared at me for five frigging minutes because engineers are like that, they're like pentium twos that tend to over analyze every data they get. i can almost read what they were thinking:
> why didn't i think of that?
> this fat blabber mouth is a genius!
> amazing! he's right!
> why am i still a virgin? oh yeah, i'm an engineer... silly me.
then they all shouted in approval. the whole boardroom broke into a festive mardigras complete with marching bands, floats, confetti, hot chicks showing their jugs, and elephants with fancy accessories. everyone was so frigging happy and they lined up to congratulate me and my ingenious idea.
one of the nerds even offered to be my personal butler for the rest of his life. i declined, so i let him shampoo my crotch instead. he agreed, but only if he could lick my balls after shampooing them. i said, hell yeah! then everyone lined up and took turns licking my balls. the bosses. the boring engineers. the hot chicks in grass skirts, the trumpet players, the elephants... everyone!
then i really woke up. and everyone was staring at me.
and i thought it was the perfect opportunity to ask for a bathroom break.
//i'm out.
then we came to the part where we talked about this big project we'll embarking on early next year -- the construction of two friggin' hydropower plants. it's big. as in billions big. that's when i dozed off. when i woke up, they were talking about acquiring a number of boring machines worth at least a cool 1.5 million each for the project.
"that's it!" i said to myself. something has to be done. so i got off my chair and said:
"what the fuck do you dipshits need those things for?!! boring machines? for what? i mean, don't you think we have enough of that shit in this company already? just take a look at you guys, 20 minutes into the meeting and you almost had me take out my lighter and burn the chest hairs of our hairy boss here, harry (not his real name, but i had to make a rhyme). you fucking bored the hell out of me!!! i say we save the money and buy ourselves some kickass karaoke machines instead. so who's with me?"
they paused. stared at me for five frigging minutes because engineers are like that, they're like pentium twos that tend to over analyze every data they get. i can almost read what they were thinking:
> why didn't i think of that?
> this fat blabber mouth is a genius!
> amazing! he's right!
> why am i still a virgin? oh yeah, i'm an engineer... silly me.
then they all shouted in approval. the whole boardroom broke into a festive mardigras complete with marching bands, floats, confetti, hot chicks showing their jugs, and elephants with fancy accessories. everyone was so frigging happy and they lined up to congratulate me and my ingenious idea.
one of the nerds even offered to be my personal butler for the rest of his life. i declined, so i let him shampoo my crotch instead. he agreed, but only if he could lick my balls after shampooing them. i said, hell yeah! then everyone lined up and took turns licking my balls. the bosses. the boring engineers. the hot chicks in grass skirts, the trumpet players, the elephants... everyone!
then i really woke up. and everyone was staring at me.
and i thought it was the perfect opportunity to ask for a bathroom break.
//i'm out.
10.07.2005
is you madona(l)?
who the fuck is mr. madonal joel?
Dear Sir/Madam,
I am Mr Madonal Joel, Chief Executive Officer of
Conoil andGas Ltd. We are OPEC members that deals on crude oil, raw materials
and export to Canada, America,Europe and Asia.Our company is also into
entertainments.
oh, so that's who madonal joel is. funny name. a CEO eh? of what? cornoil? let me get this straight, you emailed me this afternoon without knowing if i'm a guy or a girl?
so you're company's also into "entertainments" eh? can't argue with that. heck, i'm pretty much entertained now.
speak up madonal dude, what do you want from me?
We are looking for reliable commission agent who can help us receive
payments from customers that our company havesupplied goods in Canada, America, Europe and Asia as well as making payments through you to us. Please if you are reliable and interested in been a commission agent with our company we will be glad but you have to be an honest and trustworthy person.
whoa! an agent? like a super secret double-o-seven agent? so do i get to ride cool cars, and use cool gadgets, and more importantly, do i get to shag hot hot hot chicks?
so you're like recruiting me, right? for this ultra super top secret mission somewhere in the bahammas where we have an ultra super top secret hideout that needs a password and a knock, right? no. still, i like my eggs stirred, not shaken thankyouverymuch.
oh, a commission agent. what the fuck is that? receive payments? you mean a fucking cashier? no, thanks. and how dare you question my "honesty" you dipshit! you don't even know me.
wait, do you also wear one of those pointed swirly twirly bras? because that's super hot! yeah!
what the fuck is "some percentage and motivations?" you mean, i'm going to get paid, right? well, you should've just said it. but i guess you like using big words like "percentage and motivations." i guess that makes you super smart eh?Note that, as our commission agent, you will
receive some percentage and
motivations on whatever amount you receive on
behalf of our company. Be informed that THERE IS NO FINANCIAL OBLIGATION AT YOUR
END as a commission agent. Join our work at home team, no hassles. 100%
SATISFACTION!!
funny guy. sorry, i don't need any "motivations."
what the fuck is a "work at home team?" are you friggin' nannies or something?
"100% satisfaction!!?" now that's the kicker right there. you definitely got me now, mr. madonal joel. how can anyone ever go wrong when someone offers them a deal with a "100% satisfaction!!" guarantee written in it? and it's written in all caps,too! woot!
shit, i'm in. where do i sign?
Please, to facilitate and proceed if accepted, do send me madonal_joel@yahoo.co.uk promptly
by email the followings:NAME.............................................
MAILING ADDRESS..................................
AGE:.............................................
STATUS:..........................................
STATE/COUNTRY.....................................
TEL/FAX NUMBERS...................................
COMPANY NAME (If any).............................
OCCUPATION........................................
Thank you for your time as we are looking forward to workingw with you as
you send your response back to us.Mr Madonal Joel.
Chief Executive Officer.
whoa! "email the followings?" hows about i email you, madonal_joel@yahoo.co.uk, some droppings instead? thank for wasting approximately 16 minutes of my time.
fuck you, biotch!!!
//i'm out
10.06.2005
sick
now ain't this great. for the past two days i've got nothing in my mind but blog. then suddenly i have this serious bout with tonsilitis that forced me to stay in bed for two days. bummer.
it's funny. tonsilitis. it's like something kids only get. because there's this weird misconception that adults should only get sick with something "really serious" like cancer or brain tumor or something.
well, fuck them. i had tonsilitis, okay. i had fever and my throat was aching so much i couldn't swallow my own saliva, okay. i'm taking antibiotics for a week, okay. and i'm not allowed to drink any alchohol for a whole week for the antibiotics to kick in, okay. i think that's something serious.
officemate fucktard: dude, where were you the past two days?
me: i was sick, man.
officemate fucktard: really?
me: tonsilitis.
officemate fucktard: ahahahaha!!! tonsilitis? really? i think i stopped having tonsilitis when i was twelve. ahahahaha!!! what did you do? did you eat a lot of chocolates, you fattie? ahahahah!!!
me: ahahahaha... fuck you! you stopped having them because you started giving blowjobs to mall cops when you were twelve you fucking fag!
{silence}
officemate fucktard: i'm not a fag, lardass.
me: well, then stop listening to the village people, asswipe! now go back to your cube before i jam my coffee mug up your ass!
officemate fucktard: you should have them removed... your tonsils. tonsillectomy is just a minor operation, you know.
me: hows about i give you a serious asswhooppinlectomy instead, huh?!
tonsilitis is something serious, people. it can be fatal. believe me.
//i'm out.
it's funny. tonsilitis. it's like something kids only get. because there's this weird misconception that adults should only get sick with something "really serious" like cancer or brain tumor or something.
well, fuck them. i had tonsilitis, okay. i had fever and my throat was aching so much i couldn't swallow my own saliva, okay. i'm taking antibiotics for a week, okay. and i'm not allowed to drink any alchohol for a whole week for the antibiotics to kick in, okay. i think that's something serious.
officemate fucktard: dude, where were you the past two days?me: i was sick, man.
officemate fucktard: really?
me: tonsilitis.
officemate fucktard: ahahahaha!!! tonsilitis? really? i think i stopped having tonsilitis when i was twelve. ahahahaha!!! what did you do? did you eat a lot of chocolates, you fattie? ahahahah!!!
me: ahahahaha... fuck you! you stopped having them because you started giving blowjobs to mall cops when you were twelve you fucking fag!
{silence}
officemate fucktard: i'm not a fag, lardass.
me: well, then stop listening to the village people, asswipe! now go back to your cube before i jam my coffee mug up your ass!
officemate fucktard: you should have them removed... your tonsils. tonsillectomy is just a minor operation, you know.
me: hows about i give you a serious asswhooppinlectomy instead, huh?!
tonsilitis is something serious, people. it can be fatal. believe me.
//i'm out.
10.03.2005
the big fucking reveal - this is it, fuckers!!!
before you read on, read this first. yeah. read it. because i won't be fucking responsible if you don't have a fucking clue of what i'm talking about here.
***
before i continue. i'd like to announce that this blog turned one last september. yep. this blog is one year old. and to me, i think that is a test of a true blogger. clearly, you've gone past the point of no return once you've hit one. right? right? i don't know.
somehow, i found it really strange... i mean, really really strange, that i didn't have a single post last september. it was like the perfect time to alienate all my readers. but i didn't plan that to happen. honest.
so, yeah. no celebrations. no confetti. no champagne. no cheesy tributes. and most of all, no "the best of..." clips. because i really hate that shit, y'know. a tv show turns one or hits a milestone and they waste an episode by showing their "the best of..." clips. that's bullshit. i'd rather go out, buy a six-pack, and sit in front of the tv smoking cigs, drinking beer, and eating pork rind. i'm pathetic, i know.
so if you're still there and you want to wish me a happy blogga-versary or something. go ahead. i'd say thank you. then i'd ask you to stand up with me, raise our glasses and say... "the man behind this stupid blog is a marketing asshole!!!"
***
i also like to announce that i'm now officially wearing prescription glasses. do i hate it? i love it! i love it as much as i love having a root canal! contacts? no, im too clumsy and stupid to maintain contacts. so i opted for specs. good thing i got a great deal for one those hip wiretap frames. that way i won't look too much like the ugly oaf that i already am.
***
so here it is. the real reason why i haven't blogged for the past eleven years or so. the real reason why most you guys are pissed off at me right now. the real reason i lost my virginity. it's not really big, but what the fuck, right? drumroll please...
i'm involved in a project and that project is... another drumroll please...
more please....
more please....
a bit more, please...
it is a local tv talk show.
so what? big deal. as if you care. go ahead, i'll give you a couple of minutes to laugh your ass off and collect yourself before i continue.
you done?
good.
so i really am making one. honest. and i'd be the host and the creative director of it, too. honest.
remember that day, sometime early this year (i think), when i announced that a friend of mine and i got together and discussed this talk show. yes, that day. yes, that talk show. this is it.
that's why i haven't been doing much writing here. because i've been writing segment scripts and spiels and shit. i've been busy planning with the creative team. my own creative team... who's basically just a bunch of my funny friends, all five of them. we've been brainstorming since august. then there's the logo for the show, the name, the venue, the performers, the guests, the bands, the shoot dates, the tentative launch, the facial, the makeup, the wardrobe, the set, the this, the that... fuck i'm going out of my mind right now! i'm excited. i feel like i'm 16 again. well, maybe not.
and to answer some of your questions. yes, it is my show. i did say earlier that i'll be the host and the damn creative director, didn't i? why don't you believe me?
yes, the show's going to be a one hour weekly. it'll be on fridays at 9 or 11 in the evening, i think. it won't be aired live. but we will tape it with a live audience. there will be no laugh tracks and shit like that. every episode i'll interview two guests (local celebs and shit), then we'll have a guest band, then three to four segments (at least one will be done in front of the studio audience, the others will be taped).
the show will be aired locally. by locally, i mean, it will be initially aired just in this city where i live. then we'll be slowly syndicating it to other cable companies, or something like that. what channel will it be on? it will be on this new cable channel that my partner is part of that'll be launched sometime in november. so, we'll be doing a segment and studio shoots by the end of the month. then we'll be airing the show about two weeks after the channel has been launched.
yes, we will be the first locally-produced show that will be launched on the channel. yes, we will be heading the channel's program list. am i pressured? you bet your smelly ass i am! shit! i've been having irritable and loose bowel movement for two months now!
am i concerned about how i look on tv? yes. because i'm an ugly, uneloquent mess. but i'm vying for the ugliest tv talk show host award, anyway. so why the fuck worry, right? but i do need a serious make-over. so anyone out there with a kind soul.. please sign me up for "queer eye." wait, i also need a new job. then sign me up for "the apprentice" too. shit. when did become such a tv whore???
how many people do you think will watch the show every week? well, roughly there are about 250,000 warm bodies that inhabit this city. my most educated and calculated guess would be.. uhm.. about eight viewers. five if we put out a really really shitty episode.
my first guests? one of the city's councilors. yes, a politician. and from what i heard, she's a very hot MILF! schwing! the other will be "the" legendary rock icon of this country. kinda like britain's john lenon. yeah, that big!
will i quit my job for this show? no. not yet. well, it all depends after the first season (13 episodes in 3 months). it's safe to say that in the next 6 months or so, i'd be practicing the "sex and cash theory." well, the theory postulates that you can strike the perfect balance between something you really love (sex) and something that pays the bills (cash). so, no. i won't be quitting my job. not yet.
will the show affect this blog? well, it has already affected this blog. and for that, i'm sorry.
{cue inspirational soundtrack}
all i ask is for you guys to understand me. remember when you were young and people ask you about what you want to be when you grow up? i never answered a doctor, or a pilot, or an astronaut, or an educator, or a fireman. all i answered was i wanted to be someone who can influence people's perception on things. well, this is it. the show. it is an opportunity for me and my friends to influence perception and really fuck up some minds!!! yeah!
so that's that. i'll be coming in here every now and then... say, about twice a week to update you guys of our lame show. and of course, to give you your usual dose of ... dose of... i don't even know what i give you guys.
so hang in there, please.
oh, the name of the show?
fat chance, fucker! i can't tell you that. not yet.
//i'm out.
***
before i continue. i'd like to announce that this blog turned one last september. yep. this blog is one year old. and to me, i think that is a test of a true blogger. clearly, you've gone past the point of no return once you've hit one. right? right? i don't know.
somehow, i found it really strange... i mean, really really strange, that i didn't have a single post last september. it was like the perfect time to alienate all my readers. but i didn't plan that to happen. honest.
so, yeah. no celebrations. no confetti. no champagne. no cheesy tributes. and most of all, no "the best of..." clips. because i really hate that shit, y'know. a tv show turns one or hits a milestone and they waste an episode by showing their "the best of..." clips. that's bullshit. i'd rather go out, buy a six-pack, and sit in front of the tv smoking cigs, drinking beer, and eating pork rind. i'm pathetic, i know.
so if you're still there and you want to wish me a happy blogga-versary or something. go ahead. i'd say thank you. then i'd ask you to stand up with me, raise our glasses and say... "the man behind this stupid blog is a marketing asshole!!!"
***
i also like to announce that i'm now officially wearing prescription glasses. do i hate it? i love it! i love it as much as i love having a root canal! contacts? no, im too clumsy and stupid to maintain contacts. so i opted for specs. good thing i got a great deal for one those hip wiretap frames. that way i won't look too much like the ugly oaf that i already am.
***
so here it is. the real reason why i haven't blogged for the past eleven years or so. the real reason why most you guys are pissed off at me right now. the real reason i lost my virginity. it's not really big, but what the fuck, right? drumroll please...
i'm involved in a project and that project is... another drumroll please...
more please....
more please....
a bit more, please...
it is a local tv talk show.
so what? big deal. as if you care. go ahead, i'll give you a couple of minutes to laugh your ass off and collect yourself before i continue.
you done?
good.
so i really am making one. honest. and i'd be the host and the creative director of it, too. honest.
remember that day, sometime early this year (i think), when i announced that a friend of mine and i got together and discussed this talk show. yes, that day. yes, that talk show. this is it.
that's why i haven't been doing much writing here. because i've been writing segment scripts and spiels and shit. i've been busy planning with the creative team. my own creative team... who's basically just a bunch of my funny friends, all five of them. we've been brainstorming since august. then there's the logo for the show, the name, the venue, the performers, the guests, the bands, the shoot dates, the tentative launch, the facial, the makeup, the wardrobe, the set, the this, the that... fuck i'm going out of my mind right now! i'm excited. i feel like i'm 16 again. well, maybe not.
and to answer some of your questions. yes, it is my show. i did say earlier that i'll be the host and the damn creative director, didn't i? why don't you believe me?
yes, the show's going to be a one hour weekly. it'll be on fridays at 9 or 11 in the evening, i think. it won't be aired live. but we will tape it with a live audience. there will be no laugh tracks and shit like that. every episode i'll interview two guests (local celebs and shit), then we'll have a guest band, then three to four segments (at least one will be done in front of the studio audience, the others will be taped).
the show will be aired locally. by locally, i mean, it will be initially aired just in this city where i live. then we'll be slowly syndicating it to other cable companies, or something like that. what channel will it be on? it will be on this new cable channel that my partner is part of that'll be launched sometime in november. so, we'll be doing a segment and studio shoots by the end of the month. then we'll be airing the show about two weeks after the channel has been launched.
yes, we will be the first locally-produced show that will be launched on the channel. yes, we will be heading the channel's program list. am i pressured? you bet your smelly ass i am! shit! i've been having irritable and loose bowel movement for two months now!
am i concerned about how i look on tv? yes. because i'm an ugly, uneloquent mess. but i'm vying for the ugliest tv talk show host award, anyway. so why the fuck worry, right? but i do need a serious make-over. so anyone out there with a kind soul.. please sign me up for "queer eye." wait, i also need a new job. then sign me up for "the apprentice" too. shit. when did become such a tv whore???
how many people do you think will watch the show every week? well, roughly there are about 250,000 warm bodies that inhabit this city. my most educated and calculated guess would be.. uhm.. about eight viewers. five if we put out a really really shitty episode.
my first guests? one of the city's councilors. yes, a politician. and from what i heard, she's a very hot MILF! schwing! the other will be "the" legendary rock icon of this country. kinda like britain's john lenon. yeah, that big!
will i quit my job for this show? no. not yet. well, it all depends after the first season (13 episodes in 3 months). it's safe to say that in the next 6 months or so, i'd be practicing the "sex and cash theory." well, the theory postulates that you can strike the perfect balance between something you really love (sex) and something that pays the bills (cash). so, no. i won't be quitting my job. not yet.
will the show affect this blog? well, it has already affected this blog. and for that, i'm sorry.
{cue inspirational soundtrack}
all i ask is for you guys to understand me. remember when you were young and people ask you about what you want to be when you grow up? i never answered a doctor, or a pilot, or an astronaut, or an educator, or a fireman. all i answered was i wanted to be someone who can influence people's perception on things. well, this is it. the show. it is an opportunity for me and my friends to influence perception and really fuck up some minds!!! yeah!
so that's that. i'll be coming in here every now and then... say, about twice a week to update you guys of our lame show. and of course, to give you your usual dose of ... dose of... i don't even know what i give you guys.
so hang in there, please.
oh, the name of the show?
fat chance, fucker! i can't tell you that. not yet.
//i'm out.
the big fucking reveal - speculations
okay. i'm going to cut the crap. there is no part 2 to this stupid "big reveal" trilogy whatever the fuck it is. and this post may yet be another lengthy incoherent rambling, so i'm going to make a conscious effort to cut it up in parts for you guys afflicted with ADD.
before i start, i'd like to say that i don't care anymore if there's even a single soul who'd read this blog. that may be too harsh. true. but if i were you, i won't even waste a nanosecond of my life coming back to this shithole checking to see if the fat blogger has posted part 2 or part 3 or part 79 of his stupid story. no more parts. no more chapters. no more "stay tuned for the next" blah blah blah. just truthful shit from now on (or until i get to clear the air with you people).
there were a lot of speculations on why i didn't blog for the past eleven years or so. and i'd like to straighten them out.
first. i wasn't fired from my job because of blogging. the fact is, i wasn't fired, period. i even got a raise two months ago. that's proof of how much this company likes the bullshit i give them. i take a crap and everyone lines up outside the toilet to get a piece of me. so, no. i wasn't fired. i'm still working for this company i've been in for the past four years. that's a record, by the way.
second. while it might be true that i got bored with blogging so much that i grew a stupid mullet and decided to join the circus as a front act for a band of midgets instead, still it's not enough reason not to blog. but i didn't blog. and it seemed that i threw it all away. and i left you guys in the air. and i'm sorry for that.
no, i didn't grow a mullet. i grew sideburns instead.
no, i didn't join the circus to become part of a midget freakshow.
truth is, my workload increased by four times since may. everyday was like monday. only, it's like monday in hell. i
didn't shave. i didn't eat right. but i'm still as big as a rhino. i'm beginning to wonder if what i have is indeed fat, because it's starting to feel like blubber. yes, the science of metabolism intrigues me... and pisses me off.
so, yeah. the work overwhelmed me. it was too much. and i guess it ate me whole. the scary part was i just focused on one thing - making money. but the money didn't come.
and at the end of the day, i'm still stuck with this job that didn't pay much. a job that rewarded politics instead of creativity. a job that respected length of tenure more than talent. a job that puts a premium on "teamwork" rather than individual ideas that create true value. a job that gave me a fancy job-title and issued a set of high status business cards to pimp myself with. a job that gave a corner office with a window. a job that provided travel opportunities. a job that provided me and my family the so-called "financial security" every fucktard with a family needed.
the job.
the work.
the money.
and all the bullshit that came along with it.
no, i didn't get tired of blogging. i was busy with my job. and i got tired of life. i just thought that wasn't worth blogging.
third. i hate drew carey. if i had my way, i'd stick dave attell up my ass instead. then i'd be farting random funnies all over the place. plus, i think dave attell won't mind being stuck in my ass for the rest of my life, which will end in about...uhm, six years.
{this post is getting too long. like i've said, i'll cut it up in parts. but i won't be promising anything anymore. comment on it if you want. }
//i'm out.
before i start, i'd like to say that i don't care anymore if there's even a single soul who'd read this blog. that may be too harsh. true. but if i were you, i won't even waste a nanosecond of my life coming back to this shithole checking to see if the fat blogger has posted part 2 or part 3 or part 79 of his stupid story. no more parts. no more chapters. no more "stay tuned for the next" blah blah blah. just truthful shit from now on (or until i get to clear the air with you people).
there were a lot of speculations on why i didn't blog for the past eleven years or so. and i'd like to straighten them out.
first. i wasn't fired from my job because of blogging. the fact is, i wasn't fired, period. i even got a raise two months ago. that's proof of how much this company likes the bullshit i give them. i take a crap and everyone lines up outside the toilet to get a piece of me. so, no. i wasn't fired. i'm still working for this company i've been in for the past four years. that's a record, by the way.
second. while it might be true that i got bored with blogging so much that i grew a stupid mullet and decided to join the circus as a front act for a band of midgets instead, still it's not enough reason not to blog. but i didn't blog. and it seemed that i threw it all away. and i left you guys in the air. and i'm sorry for that.
no, i didn't grow a mullet. i grew sideburns instead.
no, i didn't join the circus to become part of a midget freakshow.
truth is, my workload increased by four times since may. everyday was like monday. only, it's like monday in hell. i
didn't shave. i didn't eat right. but i'm still as big as a rhino. i'm beginning to wonder if what i have is indeed fat, because it's starting to feel like blubber. yes, the science of metabolism intrigues me... and pisses me off.so, yeah. the work overwhelmed me. it was too much. and i guess it ate me whole. the scary part was i just focused on one thing - making money. but the money didn't come.
and at the end of the day, i'm still stuck with this job that didn't pay much. a job that rewarded politics instead of creativity. a job that respected length of tenure more than talent. a job that puts a premium on "teamwork" rather than individual ideas that create true value. a job that gave me a fancy job-title and issued a set of high status business cards to pimp myself with. a job that gave a corner office with a window. a job that provided travel opportunities. a job that provided me and my family the so-called "financial security" every fucktard with a family needed.
the job.
the work.
the money.
and all the bullshit that came along with it.
no, i didn't get tired of blogging. i was busy with my job. and i got tired of life. i just thought that wasn't worth blogging.
third. i hate drew carey. if i had my way, i'd stick dave attell up my ass instead. then i'd be farting random funnies all over the place. plus, i think dave attell won't mind being stuck in my ass for the rest of my life, which will end in about...uhm, six years.
{this post is getting too long. like i've said, i'll cut it up in parts. but i won't be promising anything anymore. comment on it if you want. }
//i'm out.
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