So This Just Happened…

I don’t know if followers get email notifications for each new post I make. If so, I apologize for posting 3 entries in a row. Actually I don’t really feel sorry but I felt like it was the right thing to write. Anyway, here’s a shitty snippet from my life of something that just happened:

I’m buying a computer from a friend and my dad wanders into the room and was randomly cocky and condescending in asking me about the computer. He asked if my friend is charging me more than retail. That is the dumbest ass question a person can ask. What kind of response does he expect? “Oh shit I forgot to take that into consideration. Thanks for saving me a ton of money!” No.

I didn’t need to respond to that and then he continued interrogating me. Keep in mind that he’s a computer illiterate person who only uses computers to check emails. He asks if it’s faster than his computer and if it’s an hp or dell computer. I told him it was custom built. After hearing my answer, my dad got pissed and stormed out of the room. Yes, this is the kind of random bullshit I have to live with. Expounding the situation only makes it sound more retarded. My dad probably got pissed because he felt dumb and couldn’t sustain his unjustified cockiness. Why the fuck would a person even feel smart for naming hp and dell brands?

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No “Thanks”

Yup, this is the lame (and hardly clever) title I mentioned in the last entry. I separated this tiny entry just to use that title. Not only do I not appreciate people’s thanks, I might go as far as to say I dislike them because it forces me to respond and I don’t like responding to people. Under normal circumstances, I’m not socially retarded enough to actually really hate responding to people but sometimes it’s noisy or other conversations are going on and I just don’t want to bother with it.

The Reason I Help People

I just realized that the title of this entry and the last one is very misleading. Looking at the title alone, the reader would think they’re about to read a feel good piece of writing but it turns out to be a dickish piece of writing. With that introduction, at least the dickishness won’t come as a surprise in this one.

I don’t feel like people deserve my help and I don’t feel good helping them, but I help them anyway. I think one of the main reasons I help people immediately when asked is to get them to shut up. Just the thought of the possibility of overhearing them ask others for help and hearing their stupid conservation bothers me enough that I’d rather just help them. The more I learn about myself, the more fucked up of a dick I am.

This is kind of a 3 (tiny) part story and I’m splitting the next one because I want to use a title I thought for it…

Being Nice

I consider myself a pretty nice person. I would pretty much do anything for anyone if asked but I don’t go around offering my help. I need to be asked. But then I was playing Sleeping Dogs, doing side missions helping out in game strangers, and I realized that I actually don’t enjoy helping people. Some people claim to feel great when they do good but I just feel empty and hollow afterwards. I get a “thanks” and that’s it? Does this make me a bad person? I think so.

Asking Girls In

First off, I’d like to say that life is getting really shitty once again. In between the time I turned on the computer to write this blog and actually writing it, my mom woke up from bed just to nag me about some bullshit again. I don’t want to go too far into it but just saying bullshit makes me sound like the bad guy so I’ll describe the boring situation a bit. Basically, the bank and the government made some dumbass errors and they keep saying I’m not paying enough taxes for having too much money in the bank but I don’t actually have that money because it’s a fuckin’ error. I’ve already filed all the correctional paperwork and all I can do now is just wait for the slowass government to fix it over 6 months. In the meantime, they continue to automatically send me more letters saying I owe them more and more money. Then, my mom also flips out and fuckin’ nags me about the problem. I’m getting pincer harassed by a flawed and slow government system and my retard mom. That’s all I’ll say on that subject because saying fuck and calling my mom a retard can’t sustain a false sense of interest in this subject much longer.

People normally feel a roller coaster of emotions but I just feel a roller coaster of depression. There are kind of ups and downs. The ups are just comparatively less shitty, but it’s still shit. It’s like the difference between stepping on dog shit or falling face first into it or having a piece of shit coming half way out of my asshole when a spider scares the shit out of me (not literally because the shit is still half way out/in my asshole) and while trying to run away from a spider with my pants around my ankle, I trip and get my own shit all over myself. Yes, that was awfully specific but no, it did not happen. That’s just a product of my fucked up imagination..

Moving on from shit talk, some of you might be wondering what the fuck is with the title? I seem to always coin phrases that makes me sound like I don’t understand the English language. I know it’s normally asking girls out but this topic is about asking girls in. As a cheapass fucked up person living in my parents’ house, dating sounds horrible: spending money to go out, spending money on dinner or movie or other activities. Not only does it pain me to spend money, I don’t even enjoy the out-of-home activities so why would I want to pay for something I don’t enjoy? I’ve worked out a theoretical ideal date where we would just cuddle on a couch and watch tv, movie, or play video games. That is a great date for me… in theory…

Normally, there’s only the two states of theory and practice but I’m about to invent an additional state in between. I theorize that in practice, I won’t actually enjoy the act of cuddling because people (myself included) get warm and sweaty and moist. This new state, the theory of practice, I shall call meta-theory. Even before practice, I’m already convincing myself that I won’t enjoy the company of other people. No wonder I haven’t asked a girl out in years and will be alone forever. Almost a year ago today, the last time I was kind of interested in a girl, I actually asked the girl out on a hypothetical date and she even agreed but I never went on to make an actual date. When I describe my actions, I always sound like a total dick.

Emails On Many Topics

The following is a compilation of 2 emails I just sent to a friend of mine:

alright, last email of the night. Just gonna be a compilation of a bunch of random little things that each don’t deserve an email and together still doesn’t really deserve an email.

http://uberhumor.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/OPcMFiv.jpg


I just watched a huge spider crawl towards my bag. You know the regular spiders we see? It’s like the same type but at least twice the size. Not nightmarishly big but still pretty damn big spider.

At work, some older asian guy randomly walked up to me and said “All the girls are bad… All the indian girls, they’re all bad and do voodoo and stuff.” I just said “uh huh, yeah” LOL so random.

shit I think there was supposed to be 1 more thing but I forget what it is now.

okay I lied but this one should be the actual last email.

In the podcast I listen to, the host plays a game and says this line for a few episodes now “I’m playing for Orange County so if you live in Orange County, you have a dog in this hunt.” For some reason, I wanted to put a twist on that phrase at the end and I came up with “dong in a cunt” I am shamefully proud of what I came up with, lol.

This next little section I was thinking of writing a blog post for but I don’t feel like putting in the quality I usually put in the blogs. Basically, remember our talk about the escort? I think there’s 3 level of context that can be provided and more info doesn’t necessarily make it any less weird lol

Little Context: I sent you an email telling you to email me back with your response after you’ve masturbated. (Hilariously lacking in context)

Some Context: You need to masturbate first to clear your mind because you’re planning to pay for an escort that we’ll be sharing. (I think this sounds even more wrong cause it sounds like we’re planning a threesome)

Full Context: You want to pay for me to test the waters of an escort service in case it’s an undercover cop or something. I told you to masturbate first to clear your mind to make sure you really want to pay for me to have sex. (The full context is actually arguably worse than the lesser contexts)

Remember last time when you were over and you were about to lie on the couch but you asked if I do any freaky shit on the couch? I’ve been thinking about that and truth be told, yes, I’ve masturbated on that couch. But they’re clean masturbation and realistically, a clean naked ass on the couch is much better than farts in the couch. I just thought that that was an interesting comparison.

Last little note, I will be posting the last 2 emails in the blog and I wonder what kind of feedback that’ll bring.

My Life’s Paradoxes Part IV

This entry is a bit different than the rest. I just want to write some crap right now and not worry about how it comes out. No planning. Just gonna write whatever’s on my mind and I’m just going to assume my raw thoughts are interesting enough to be read. Oh wait, that doesn’t sound any different than what I normally do.

Sometimes, I’m so smart and think of so many possibilities that I act upon one of the non-obvious ones and it ends up making me look stupid where I wouldn’t look stupid if I just did the obvious thing. A quick example would be seeing a gap in a closed doorway and assuming that the door isn’t fully closed so I don’t need to turn the door knob, but it turns out I still needed to turn the knob and I walk straight into a closed door like a dumbass. If I just turned the fuckin door knob regardless of the gap, the obvious approach, I wouldn’t have looked stupid. Maybe I’m not a smart person who looks stupid. Maybe I’m just a total dumbass who dumbassedly thinks he’s smart even though he’s not.

In the past, I’ve frequently written about my virginity and my (arguably confused) sexuality. Even though I’m always horny, I think sex is pretty gross. When I watch porn, I’m only interested in softcore lesbian porn. But that’s too specific so I usually just watch normal lesbian porn and enjoy the softcore bits and get grossed out by the actual sexual parts. I don’t think I would enjoy sex but I’m jealous that other people gets action. I’m basically just a dick who wants everyone else to be as miserable as I am I guess.

A lot of people work 9-5 jobs, but I work a 5-9 job. Really, it’s true. I work part time from 5pm to 9pm. I’m not trying to be funny. Actually, I am trying to be funny but I don’t want to admit that because I know it’s not funny. That was just a stupid non joke.

A lot of people seek their parents’ approval and working part time at a minimum wage job at 22 is quite a disappointment. But that doesn’t bother me because I don’t seek my parents’ approval at all. In fact, I think I crave their disappointment. Because I dislike and disrespect them so much, I don’t want to give them the satisfaction of having raised a person who leads a successful life. Maybe I’m only being a miserable and depressed piece of shit out of spite towards my parents.

With all the crap I write about my parents, I will go on record and say that they’re not bad people, they’re just bad parents. …Whether a person is good or bad pretty much depends on the result of their action and they produce shit results, just look at me. I guess they are bad people, but they don’t have bad intentions. Intentions don’t really matter if they consistently yield bad results though. Actually, I don’t know my parents enough to really know their intentions so maybe they are bad people after all.

I honestly believe my parents are total dumbasses who might be borderline retarded. Maybe not even borderline. Although I’d like to think I’m smart, considering my lack of accomplishments and that I’m raised by two retards, I’m probably retarded too. And if that’s the case, you just read an entire article that some retard wrote on a whim so I don’t even know what that makes you, you retard lover. Oh I just answered my own question. And if you hate me, then you’re a retard hater and know that that makes you a bad person. Mwahaha, I just antagonized everyone. …all the 10 people who reads this.

… I don’t think I should end like this… I gotta fix this. Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure I’m not retarded so you’re not a retard lover. Or even if I am retarded, you don’t love me so you’re still not a retard lover. Whatever the case, you’re not a retard lover. No one is. Retard lovers don’t exist. Who could love a retard? Yup, everything’s fixed. I retracted my insult while simultaneously writing something insensitive, ignorant, and dickish. Perfect.