Well, little has changed aside from the fact that I’ve gotten only sicker. Still running horribly, still struggling in all ways that one can possibly struggle out here. Totally out of time. Any hope I had to pace myself and do this cleanly over the course of ten hour days just won’t happen. For some reason this has to be torture.
Four days left. Sick as a dog, have nothing left in the tank. Maybe have an outside shot if I can get 50 hours these next four days, if I can run at any level above “rock bottom.” Basically have to go until I can no longer stand or stay awake. And maybe come out of this with something. No guarantees. Sure would be nice to run anywhere near EV and just have a work trip like anyone else. Oh well.
Hopefully I make it out alive.
I’ve never had my heart broken before. At least not by another person. Never been in that situation, for better or worse, where that girl you love just ends it and bisects your heart, leaving you in a crumpled, devastated, pulseless lump. But if I had to guess, this is pretty much what being heartbroken feels like. Full Crazy Text
I had a dream a few months back. Many of you who are familiar with me know I almost never remember dreams, and the ones I do are horrific nightmares which customarily involve me being murdered in a variety of extremely violent methods. However this dream, this pleasant dream that few months back, was as welcome as it was incongruous. Full Crazy Text
My whole life, I grew up playing and adoring sports. Played basically every major sport one could think of. Played organized hockey since age 4. Baseball since age 5. Football for two years in high school. Basketball for about ten years of inept rec/club. Got the chance to learn how to play golf, and to ski. I look back on my time playing all those sports with fondness and happy memories. And I also look back, with the most firm of resolutions that I absolutely do not want my kid to play youth sports. Full Crazy Text
All my life I was raised to believe getting good grades and going to college was important. That the knowledge one acquires there amounts to currency beyond graduation, a leg up in the job market and a valuable threshold reached that can be tangibly demonstrated by the sheepskin in hand. I think we can all concede at this point that is complete bullshit. One learns nothing of use in undergrad outside of the rock-hardest of sciences, and someone with just an undergraduate degree, even from a highly-ranked institution, is only as competitive in the job market as, well, me. That is data you simply cannot un-calculate. From a life or career advancement standpoint, college is beyond useless. However, it seems from the flipside, there’s essentially nothing to do with a generation of 18-22 year-old maniacs in society except send them to a voluntary four-year stretch in college. Continue reading
An episode of Family Guy in season 9 features the following cutaway:
After unearthing this again on youtube and having many good laughs at it, I began to think more and more about it. Is this girl just crazy? Is her supportive friend simply salting a wound poor Tyler has no idea he opened? Or is there more to this story, and consequently all of gender relations as a whole?
So, without further ado, my extended theory of Tyler’s crime:
Full Crazy Text
“Better than nothing” is a phrase you hear a lot. As a frank statement of fact or as the bare minimum of effort to cheer up someone with low self-esteem. Hang in there. You’re not worthless, certainly better than nothing. And they’re right. You are better than nothing. I, however, evidently, am not. After a five-week application process for a job for which I felt I was eminently qualified, the prospective employers decided whoever was sitting in that chair next to Eastwood was in fact the Apparition for the job.
Hire the one on the right. Sorry everyone, position has been filled.
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There has been outcry of late from fans in several sports about officiating. I’m well aware the majority of this outcry results from replacement officials incapable of doing the job of their predecessors, most notably on a call which determined the outcome of a game for the Green Bay Packers. Days ago, Atlanta Braves fans contended that an infield fly rule which was erroneously called destroyed their inning, and arguably determined the outcome of the game, and therefore their season in a do or die playoff game. The result of all this? Everyone in the business end of the game covers their ears and starts yelling, confirm all calls were correct, and then angrily leave after being interrupted from their daily practice of counting your peasant money. Full Crazy text
I’m told this election boils down to job creation and unemployment rates. Or something. That the number of Americans without work has created sufficient public outcry and economic instability, that whichever candidate can successfully convince the nation he’ll be able to get the most Americans back into the work force will win. I’m glad you asked, Obama and Romney, I have just the solution. Full Crazy Text
This election season is disgusting. Everyone involved should be beyond ashamed of themselves. The campaign ads, the rhetoric, and most of all the news stations unabashedly espousing their respective political beliefs is enough to make your skin crawl. I never understood before the idiotic, juvenile imagery Mendes chose with the trash bag in American Beauty as “the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.” I guess I do now. With two candidates effectively hurling the contents of dumpsters in which they are both waist deep at one another, one lone, airborne piece of trash looks pretty damn gorgeous by comparison. Full Crazy Text