I hung out with some good buddies who were in town last night, got to watch a rock show and had a overall amazing time. This morning I woke up, sleep deprived and with heartburn, smelling like ass and realizing that I’ve got these unpaid parking tickets just haunting me. I just went on the website to pay them and they’ve got no fucking record of them…I’m bummed. Also, I need to do this online traffic school bullshit and get a decent job and finish this script and book shows and I have zero energy for any of it. I’m supposed to be writing songs, but I’m avoiding it. I’m actually barely able to do this dumb blog…it’s irritating me today, which means this will probably end quickly, but none of this is here or there. My point is, I’m a little overwhelmed and I honestly can’t figure out why. I don’t do anything particularly stressful. I hang out with a baby most of the time and that’s about it. I go to the gym, write things, park my car illegally, have some friends over, work at a bar on occasion, and I’m feeling stressed out. Oh mercy me! I need to go to the bank today. How will I ever cope? It’s retarded, man.
I didn’t write yesterday because I didn’t have time. That’s not true. I don’t remember what the fuck was going on yesterday, but it sure wasn’t so fucking hectic that I couldn’t crank out a couple of dumb anecdotes about hanging out with a group of gay French teenagers or something. Who knows? I think my job is getting to me. It’s not a terrible job, but it’s been going on for a little while now, and I think I’ve wrung all the life experience I can out of it. I just feel like I’m constantly washing glasses and kissing ass and I don’t really enjoy either of those pastimes too much. I want to do something but I don’t know what. Watching my friends play music last night made me sort of want to be on the road for the first time in a long time, but it’s one of those things, you know? I mentioned that to one of the guys and he said, ‘okay. Let’s trade.’ It’s true what they say about happiness, you know? It’s fleeting and unstable and it doesn’t come from money or success or anything like that. It comes from everything, but only just for a second.
In those brief moments where everything’s kicking ass, you just got a blowjob and deposited a huge check and your mom likes you and your dumb little art project got a bit of recognition or whatever, happiness exists. No worries, right? It’s just sort of all firing together. Next week though? No blowjob, bad day at the office, your friend is acting like a dick and you got drunk and sent a questionable email to someone. Uh oh. Suddenly everything sucks. I don’t know what the solution is to this…I guess that’s the great mystery of existence, right? How can I be happy? There are lots and lots of easy answers out there and you know what? Most of them are correct. They will make you happy…How can I be happy? Well, lose weight, get a better job, some hair restoration, pop bigger boners than you ever have before, have a burger, drink Pepsi, put your baby in nice diapers, and on and on. These things DO make motherfuckers happy. Haircuts. Man, nothing like getting an nice haircut and hanging out feeling good about yourself, you know? It’s that small stuff that creates the temporary illusions of happiness that we cobble together into some sort of chain of memory to convince ourselves that we should keep living. Jesus chirst! Deeeeeepressing, huh? Well, fuck it. I don’t know.
My father in law has a social exercise that he busts out at parties and stuff. Someone will mention feeling aimless or directionless (which is sort of, in a nutshell what I’ve been talking about here) and he’ll ask “what would you do if you knew you couldn’t fail?”
It’s a good question. Do people really have an answer to this, though? I feel like what’s his dick from Office Space. I’d kind of just like to kick it…But I’d get bored and restless, I suppose. So, what? Travel show host? Blowjob contest judge? Those sound like pretty good jobs, I guess. Huh. Look, I’m not trying to figure it all out today, man. Okay, get out there and live. I gotta take my kid to the doctor. His penis is dangerously large. Heh.
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10 comments:
Fuck it, man. I always say, life is like Thermonuclear War: the only way to win is to not play. But it is just a game, no need to take it that seriously. (You've seen 'War Games', right? Matthew Broderick as nerdy teenager who nearly destroys the civilized world?)
Gimme your address, or PO Box. I'll send you a bad sandwich shirt, a well known panacea for all afflictions.
Wanna know why I'm bummed today? I'll tell you anyway. It's cuz I don't have a job, and also cuz I was not at the TRio/STD show last night, or the night before.
Cheer up BK...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p86BPM1GV8M&feature=player_embedded
Yeah, totally. Existence, eh. People and feelings are so fickle...Hey! That would make a great song!
illusions Michael, tricks are what a whore does for money
or cocaine.
i had a feeling you were at that show. especially with all the shout outs from matt skiba
Yup, I know what youre saying, although I dont have a wife/kids/semidecent band. I ended up quitting my job and moving to a remote island doing a volunteer job for no $$$ whatsoever. There are about 70 people here. There is, predictably, a terrible drought of attractive/young/etc girls. Still one of the best decisions Ive ever made. Go back on tour, I'll be back on the mainland by the time you make it out of there.......
hey Brendan, what was the song they dedicated to you?
I was at the Milwaukee Alk3 show last night, just cuz I don't like driving in Chicago. It was awesome, of course.
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