Eggs In A Basket

When I do things, I don’t like to do them half-assedly. I want to go full ass. The expression “don’t put all your eggs in one basket” is true under one axiom: if you can’t afford to lose your eggs. In real life, eggs (or whatever they are a metaphor for) would not end your life even if you broke them all. They’re just eggs. Go buy more. We shouldn’t be expecting the eggs to go wrong in one basket either. Reinforce the basket to ensure nothing goes wrong. Plus, carrying multiple baskets will increase your chances of screwing up.

 

I’ve had this next thought for a while now. You know the old news about when Justin Beiber totalled his car? I was thinking about that and want to use it as an example, and defend him in my example. First off, I want to be clear that I don’t like the guy. I don’t feel strongly about it, but he’s just easy to dislike. I feel mostly neutral about him but if I had to pick a side, I would easily pick the hater side. Anyway, I don’t know any detail about that news but I can imagine hypothetically, in a similar situation, a guy could be a little reckless but might not necessary fuck things up. It’s very possible that there were people nagging him and telling him to be less reckless, which ticked him off, occupied his mind, and is what tipped over the recklessness to actually cause an incident. Basically, I’m saying that there are times where nagger are the cause of problems so don’t nag. Don’t be annoying. If things are bad, nagging makes it worse, not better.

 

Lastly, I’m going to write about my dream last night. I was listening to podcasts when I went to bed and fell asleep while listening to the Nerdist podcast with Metallica as the guest. Then in my dream, I was part of the band and I was driving them around. I don’t know how they look like but I was basically just hanging out with 5 “cool” dudes in the dream. I don’t even know how many people are in the band. Anyway, in the dream, I drove them around in a Volkswagen Beetle and the thought kept crossing my mind that it was an unmanly car. It’s not that I even like that car or anything but that’s just what happened in my dream. I had weird anxious feelings that they might make fun of me for my car choice but then the drive worked out and I felt relieved that I picked a car that worked. Not sure why there was the idea that another car might not have worked. Then the dream moved on to us staying at a place and as we were leaving, I looked in the closet and it had some of the same clothes as my closet. That was odd. Was it my closet? I took a look at the other clothes and it was not my closet but there were surprisingly some of the same clothes. I thought I should take them with me since they were “my clothes” and then a pacman ghost floated into the closet. I felt fear and the place now seems haunted. I put the clothes back and woke up. I’m sure all this dream talk made no sense at all. They sound like they might be emulating some deep seeded emotions or something but beyond that, it didn’t make much sense and I really don’t think I did a good job describing it. I had those dreams in my first sleep that I woke up from at 2am. Maybe I could’ve done a better job if I wrote about it then but I chose to sleep instead. Hopefully my next dream entry will make more sense than this.

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Shit Stories Part IX: Shit Adjacent and Tangent Stories

Foreword: In this entry, I didn’t transition between my thoughts very well. All these thoughts are interesting, tangental, and related so I want to keep them all together. But at the same time, I don’t want to clog it up with more sentences just for the sake of transitioning between thoughts without adding any additional content. …Okay, that was a lie, I’m just too lazy to put in the time to turn this shit story into a masterfully written shit story. Plus, I didn’t get any sleep and wrote about shit all night while having chocolate milk diarrhea so give me a break, alright?

Am I dozing off or just staring at my boobs? Why not both? Oh shit, I stole Ted's line.

Am I dozing off or just staring at my boobs? Why not both? Oh shit, I stole Ted’s line.

Some of you might wonder what the heck “shit adjacent” even means. I don’t mean it literally because the story doesn’t involve me standing next to a piece of shit or anything. In fact, there’s no actual shit in the story. It’s like when you’re taking a shit and you’re mentally prepared for shit to appear but you can’t push anything out. That is the analogy I have chosen. I chose a shitting analogy to describe my shit story. Actually, it’s not even an analogy because that’s basically the whole story, told in the guise of an analogy.

I am also shit adjacent.

I am also shit adjacent.

As a guy, I follow the convention that I should pee standing up. So when I falsely think that I need to shit and I’m s(h)itting but nothing comes out, I have to try really hard to squeeze some shit out and if nothing comes out in the end, I feel a bit of shame for having peed sitting down. That is some fucked up retarded emotions. I know that intellectually but it doesn’t stop me from feeling this way. Feelings are so gay. And by gay, I mean retarded. Which one is more offensive? “Why not write both?” – me. (…Everything I write is in my word so I wonder why I bothered quoting myself…)

And I'm ashamed of peeing while standing. Wait. Why am I taking a picture of this?

And I’m ashamed of peeing while standing. Wait. Why am I taking a picture of this?

That last section is interesting to me. I’m obviously aware that I am potentially offending a lot of people but I wrote it anyway. Why? Because it’s funny to me. I only wrote it because I found it funny and I chose not to censor my comedy. But what makes it so funny? It’s funny because of how easily I can offend so many groups of people. If people didn’t get offended by this stuff, it wouldn’t have been funny to me and I wouldn’t have written it, thus, not having created anything for them to be offended by. Ironically, it’s because they DO get offended that there’s more of this stuff to offend them.

Let me put on my "nerd" glasses and smile and pretend I understood what you just read.

Let me put on my “nerd” glasses and smile and pretend I understood what you just read.

Girls living with guys often complain about them not putting the seat back down. I wonder why I never hear complaints about guys not lifting the seats up at all and peeing all over the seat. There’s no way this never happened. I guess people just generally don’t talk about shit and piss as casually as I do. Where’s our thanks for not peeing all over the seat? Even if we end up peeing all over the floor, at least you’re not sitting in our urine. I also never hear guys complaining about girls always leaving the seat down. Mathematically speaking, the guy would’ve lifted the seat up as many times as the girl had to put the seat down. She may complain about having accidentally sat in the bowl with no seat, maybe even touching some CLEAN toilet water, but that’s not the same as peeing on the seat (because our urethra is set to shower setting) and having to clean up the urine. You also never hear about a guy who sat in the bowl without the seat. It would seem that guys are conditioned to always check the seat status with every toilet visit where girls have a problem of assuming it’s down.

Stop complaining about the seat you guys. Do you want to pee in snow instead?

Stop complaining about the seat you guys. Do you want to pee in snow instead?

So many hypothetical girlfriends have left me for being thoughtless and counter nagging them. It’s thoughts like these that keep me in the single and virgin statuses. To continue counter nagging my hypothetical girlfriend, I’m actually not thoughtless at all as evidenced by the amount of thought put into this blog.

 I'm one of those hypothetical girlfriends. I'm so hypothetical that I don't even have a head.


I’m one of those hypothetical girlfriends. I’m so hypothetical that I don’t even have a head.

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.